Triple Threat
by Steph Malfoy
Summary: Alex Rider. Wolf. Yassen Gregorovich. Three powerful men. Now they've been brought together to create the unstoppable. Operation Triple Threat is about to begin. [Review!] UPDATED!
1. Prologue

Post 'Scorpia' but before 'Ark Angel', 1 more month till it comes out! (U.S)

**Disclaimer: **Everything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz. This first part I got from the Stormbreaker trailer, I don't own that either.

**Triple Threat**

**Triple Threat**

**By: Steph (Akers2)**

Prologue

"So what is it that makes us what we are?" the professor's voice rang across the lecture hall. He peered at the students assembled in rows before him before continuing. "What is it that defines us? Is it where we live? Is it our schooling? Or is it our family? Alex Rider, family. Alex?" He repeated looking expectantly down at a light brown haired boy whom was seated by the window and was looking intently at a paper.

Alex Rider looked up; shutting the folder of papers he had been looking at. "Yes sir?" he said to his professor.

"Have you prepared something for us?" the professor asked Alex, raising one eyebrow.

Alex opened his packet of papers again and glanced down at it before replying, "Yes." (a/n: so that's the only part I used from the trailer, I'm now making the rest of it up)

"Wonderful," the professor declared. "When you're ready than," he said with a flourish of his hand as he took a step back.

After a moment Alex left his seat by the window and walked to the podium his professor had recently evacuated. He set his report on the platform and looked at his fellow classmates. There was only one there that actually truly knew Alex and that was Tom Harris, Alex's best friend.

"Most people here have your typical family," Alex began. His cool, confident voice echoed around the room. Alex had a knack for public speaking and he immediately captured the attention of his peers. "Father, mother, brothers, sisters, the family dog. But we don't all have that, I know I don't, I never have," Alex said ruefully. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you who I have for a family now," he said matter-of-factly. Alex was right, who would believe him? Who would believe that his closest family consisted of the head of MI6, Blunt, the deputy head, Mrs. Jones, one of MI6's recruits, Wolf, and to be added soon to the mix, a once 'contract killer'?

Alex Rider wasn't your typical 14-year-old schoolboy. Well how normal can you be when you're working for MI6 secretly? Especially as a 14-year-old spy, who just so happens to be the best in the business.

"So," Alex continued. "I'll start from the beginning. When I was a year old my family decided to go on vacation to Cancun (a/n?). At the last minute I came down with an ear infection and was left home with my nanny, we would join my parents in a few days. We never got that far, however. The plane my parents were on crashed and they were killed," Alex's voice hardened, his chocolate brown eyes did much the same. What Alex had just told his classmates was a lie, and he knew it. In actuality Alex's father, John Rider, had been a spy for MI6 who had had the assignment of joining the ranks of Scorpia, the world's most feared and deadly terrorist organization. John would report back to MI6 on Scorpia activities. Scorpia ended up discovering John as a fake and killed him and his wife, Helen.

"I was left in the care of my uncle, Ian. He was the overseas financer for the bank he worked at and was away a lot. When I did not accompany him I stayed behind with our housekeeper, Jack Starbright. Last year my uncle was killed in a car crash." Again this was not fact but fiction. Ian Rider, brother of John Rider, had also worked for MI6. It was as Ian was returning from a mission that he had been shot and killed by an assassin.

"I now live in my uncle's house with Jack." Alex paused and looked around at the people that were supposed to be his peers but he couldn't help but feeling that they were so far from being his peers. Sure they all went to the same school, were the same age, likes some of the same things but at the end of the day what did they really have in common? They worried about whom liked whom, the latest fashions, who would win the upcoming soccer or rugby tournament. Alex worried about mad men with guns, power crazy billionaires; men who wanted world domination or world peace and were willing to destroy half the world to get it.

Sports versus the world's welfare. How did they even compare in the slightest sense? Alex didn't know. Ever since the first mission he had been on, finishing his uncle's uncompleted work, almost a year ago Alex had felt drawn apart from the rest of the class. Different. Like he stood out from everyone else.

The only person who really knew Alex Rider was his best friend, Tom Harris. Tom was the only one who knew about Alex's life as a spy and when there was a report on the television or the radio, newspapers or magazines about a major event Tom was the only who knew that Alex had had a role in it and that thanks to Alex they would still be above ground, rather than under it. That they would be plating flowers instead of flowers growing off of them.

As Alex brought his speech to a close the class applauded politely before the next speaker was called up to the podium. Alex sat back down in his seat by the window and looked longingly out of the window, at Brookland Prep's lushes green playing fields. Fields that Alex knew so well from being the athlete that he was.

As stared off into space his professor's words blazed through his head, _"So what is it that makes us what we are? What is it that defines us? Is it where we live? Is it our schooling? Or is it our family?" _Alex didn't feel that any of the professor's examples were relevant, to him that is. Where you live and how much or where you received your education could very well define who you are in life as a person, but not for Alex. Sure his line of profession required education and skill, if you didn't have skill than you were as good as dead. But Alex needed to have more aspects and qualities that couldn't be taught through books, worksheets, projects or lectures. He was brave, cunning, a quick thinker. He needed to have a natural instinct of what to do, when someone in holding a gun to your head you don't have anytime to waste, you don't have time to think, at least not overly so. You just act, on instinct; that alone had more than once saved Alex's life.

Alex put his professor's well spoken words into the back of his head, hoping that he would remember them at a later date.

The school day finished and Alex was on his way. For once he got the afternoon off and went to the playing fields with his friends and played soccer. Alex enjoyed being a normal boy for the afternoon, doing normal activities and worrying about normal things, but he still felt disconnected. Like he didn't belong, that he was just an act.

How many of his friends had held a gun and felt the slight throw against their hands as they pulled the trigger? Shot a man? Or been shot yourself by a man? _None_, he concluded to himself. He could act like he fitted in and pretend that nothing was different but as much as he enjoyed his friends none of it disappeared completely.

A week later Alex Rider disappeared.

This was nothing new for him so no one really paid it any heed. It had become a ritual for Alex over the past year to just disappear for a while, sometimes for two weeks and sometimes for two months. No one knew where he went or what he did or who he was with, except Tom. They had their rumors, just like the next school, but none were accurate or even came close to the truth. They wanted to know where Alex was constantly disappearing to and why he always came back injured but Alex always just shrugged it off with a sly smirk, refusing to tell anyone what he had done for the past however long it had been.

The thing that was different about this time however is that Alex didn't return. A week passed and than two and than those two morphed into three. The week's turned into months and they still hadn't seen a wisp of or heard a whisper from Alex Rider.

The school year drew to a close and still there wasn't anything from Alex. It seemed that he was really gone this time and this time no one knew where he was or who he was with. Not even Tom.

**a/n: **excellent, good, okay, bad, horrible? Tell me what you think. It will get longer just to let you know. Expect an update for DLS tomorrow (Saturday 17) Review!


	2. Introducing Operation Triple Threat

**a/n: **I know I took forever, I have a LONG list of excuses, that are true by the way, but I'll spare you and just get right to the chapter. I haven't got the slightest idea to the school systems in England so I'm just going to have it be like it is in the U.S. Hope you like. Review! –Steph

**Disclaimer: **Everything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz.

**Triple Threat**

**Chapter 2—Introducing Operation Triple Threat**

_MI6 headquarters_

"When will he be here?" Blunt asked, folding his arms across the front of his customary gray suit. His gray eyes starred out of his slightly aged face at the women sitting across from him in the briefing room. She had curly black hair and was sucking on a seemingly ever present peppermint. She was Mrs. Tulip Jones. The deputy head of British Military Intelligences, MI6, second only to Mr. Alan Blunt, the head of MI6.

Mrs. Jones quickly consulted the thinnest of the files in front of her. "Within the hour," she answered primly. "Alex will be fetched by the driver from school."

Blunt nodded and laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the mahogany table top. "Wonderful," he replied though there was little to no emotion in his voice. "And the other two?"

Mrs. Jones flipped a page in her folder. "Wolf's on his way. Our monitor is showing the car about 15 minutes away." Blunt nodded and Mrs. Jones continued. "Yassen arrived about an hour ago so he's here."

The corners of Blunt's gray lips twitched upwards in the beginnings of one of his rare smile. He leaned back in the plush leather office chair in satisfaction. "Wonderful," he said again though this time there was a little emotion behind the word. "Operation Triple Threat is well on its way, wouldn't you say?" Blunt cocked an eyebrow at Mrs. Blunt.

"They must agree to the situation first. Alex hasn't always been the most willing when it comes to MI6 and he's not particularly fond of Yassen," Mrs. Jones said logically.

Blunt frowned; this was not what he wanted to hear. "He'll agree," he stated simply. "They all will. They will learn to get along."

"Yes I hope so," Mrs. Jones mused. She eyed Blunt cautiously. "I know the importance of succeeding with this meeting today but this has to be their choice. Yassen and Wolf should be more willing to agree but Alex may not be. You must not blackmail him though or bribe him. For this operation to be successful they'll all have to want it."

"None of them are going to be overjoyed with the idea," Blunt responded. "Especially not when they hear what the first year entails. I agree they should all want it to succeed but none of them will right off the bat." Mrs. Jones nodded in understanding, her black curls bobbing around her around head. "They will work together, earn each others respect and learn to work as a team, than they'll be committed to the idea. I have no doubt in my mind about that," Blunt added to get his point across.

"True, true," Mrs. Jones nodded. The black phone on the end of the table rang out shrilly and Mrs. Jones reached over and pressed the speaker phone button with one of her long, ruby red painted nailed fingers. "Yes?" She asked briskly.

"Agent Wolf's car has just arrived," a middle aged female voice said. The voice was slightly raspy, as if the woman was a long time smoke. "Shall I send him up?"

"Please do," Mrs. Jones replied.

"Right away ma'am," the secretary responded politely. She was about to click off when Mrs. Jones spoke up,

"Send Agent Gregorovich up as well."

The secretary voiced her acknowledgment before she clicked off of the line. The briefing room was silent for five minutes as the rooms' two occupants halted their conversation in preparation for their two new arrivals. Mrs. Jones rifled through another, thicker, folder looking for a particular document. She removed three pieces of thick, legal paper and set them in front of her on the table.

A knock sounded from the door. "Come in," Mrs. Jones called out.

The highly polished mahogany door swung open and two men entered. The first was a man who appeared to be in his early to mid twenties. He had fair hair of a light brown coloring close cropped around a smooth face. He was tall, lean and muscular exhibiting the body and grace of a dancer. His clear blue eyes held no emotion as they flicked around the room in a silent survey that took only seconds. He wore olive green cargo pants, black lace up combat boots and a navy t-shirt. He was Russian, but you would never be able to tell from his voice that held no trace of an accent. This was Yassen Gregorovich.

The second was a fair deal shorter than Yassen but lacked nothing in muscle, his square shoulders supported powerful arms. His hair was black and close cropped. He had a handsome face that was only marginally marred by a slightly uneven nose; no doubt it had been broken in the past. He was Yassen's age, perhaps a year or two younger at the most. He was dressed much the same as Yassen and exuberated the air of a leader. His emotionless dark brown eyes flitted over the room the same as Yassen's had done just seconds before. They'd been trained to never let the emotion show through their eyes. Eyes were a dead giveaway of what a person was feeling, the biggest weakness a person could have. This was Wolf; Wolf was his MI6 codename and it suited him perfectly.

"Welcome gentleman," Blunt greeted the two men in a professional way, "Wonderful of you to come on such short notice. Please, take a seat," Blunt gestured around the table to the many empty leather chairs. Yassen and Wolf sat down across for each other and eyed each other warily as they did so, wondering why they were there and who the other was.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you are here," Blunt began the same speech he gave every recruit that stepped into his office or the briefing room. "All will be revealed in time but we are waiting for our third member to arrive. He should be here soon," Blunt said as he checked the expensive watch that was strapped to his wrist and was pleased to know that the hour was almost up.

The phones shrill ring sounded again and Mrs. Jones pressed the speaker phone button again. "Yes?"

"Agent Rider has just arrived," the same raspy female voice sounded through the room. "Shall I send him up?"

Mrs. Jones replied with a simple, "Yes," and than hung up the phone.

Blunt's gray eyes flickered with something that was close to excitement. Operation Triple Threat was about to begin.

**Triple Threat**

_Brookland Prep_

"Mr. Rider? Mr. Rider did you hear what I just said?" Alex Rider snapped his head up from his desk as he heard his name. He looked up at his history teacher, Mr. Travis, who was standing in the front of the room watching him closely.

"Erm sorry what was that?" Alex asked.

Mr. Travis was not pleased when he didn't detect even a hint of apology or sheepishness in the young boy's voice. "I said, Mr. Rider that you may break off into small groups of up to 4 people to complete yesterdays' packet on the recent explosion at the Nuclear Submarine Repair Yard in Murmansk. Please pay attention next time."

"Sorry Sir," Alex said but didn't feel very sorry about anything. He now remembered why he'd been zoning out in the first place. _Why do I have to learn about the submarines exploding in Murmansk?_ Alex thought wryly as he walked over to where his group of friends were seated and plopped down in an empty desk. _I was there, hell I even caused the explosion! In a sense, but of course they don't know about that. What else could they possibly teach me? _After reading the information the teacher had supplied the class yesterday Alex had to try very hard not to start laughing at the sheer stupidity of some of it. Of course it sounded reasonable to everyone else because they hadn't been there but as far as Alex was concerned it was by no means an accurate tale of the events that day.

"What did you get for number four?" Alex's best friend, Tom Harris's voice pulled Alex from his thoughts.

Alex blinked. "Sorry what?"

"What did you get for number four?" Tom repeated slowly though in a joking manner.

"Uh…" Alex flipped open his packet and was not surprised to see that all the answers were blank; he hadn't felt compelled to answer any of them.

"Surprise surprise," Alex's friend Josh laughed as he caught sight of Alex's blank paper. "Alex didn't answer any of the questions."

"Oh shut up," Alex said and punched Josh in the arm. He shook his head to get the light brown hair out of his eyes. "What's the question?"

"You're so lazy Alex," Hailey said as she pushed her long blonde hair out of her face and twirled a strand of it around her finger. "You've got the paper right in front of you and you ask what the question is. But whatever, it's: what is the primary suspected cause for the submarines exploding?"

Alex knew the answer, the real one in any case, but what he knew as the truth was not what his friends thought. "Uh," he said as he hurriedly tried to recall what the packet had said. "I think it said that there was an oil leak in one of the submarines and it met with some explosives."

"What did you do? Memorize the packet?" Josh said as he scribbled down what Alex had just said in his messy scrawl.

"Ha ha," Alex said and he glanced at the clock that was above the blackboard. 27 minutes left. "This is boring," Alex complained.

"You've hardly been at school at all this year," Hailey said indignantly. "You've only been back for a month and already you're complaining about it being boring? What about everyone else who's been here the whole year?"

Alex shrugged in response. He'd missed the first three months of the new school year after being shot in the chest by a sniper from Scorpia. Alex had some tricky dealings with the elite and deadly terrorist organization Scorpia over the summer vacation and it had resulted in Scorpia wanting him dead. The bullet had come deadly close to his heart, only off by a centimeter or two. Alex had been unconscious for three weeks and spent the next four recovering in the hospital. For the remaining part of the three months Alex was in a physical therapy session specially modified by MI6 just for him. He'd only been back for a month.

"So do want to tell us where you were?" Hailey pressed casually.

"I already did," Alex responded just as casually as he pretended to look through the packet for the answer to the next question.

"Right," Josh snorted in disbelief. "You were sick, again."

Alex glanced up from his packet and eyes his friends. "No I was on one of those student exchange programs. I told you that already." Oh course it was a lie but he couldn't very well tell them the truth and he needed something other than his 'I was sick' excuse.

"Uh huh so explain the scars and all the injuries," Ayden shot at Alex. Alex looked over at his other friend.

As Alex was halfheartedly to think of an excuse Mr. Davis called from the front of the room. "Mr. Rider the office just called and they want you there immediately with all your things."

"Where are you going?" Hailey asked interestedly as Alex stuffed his history papers into his book bag.

"No idea," Alex replied and for once he was actually telling the truth.

"Well than see ya later," Hailey said.

"Yeah bye," Alex said distractedly, he was trying to think of who was here to get him and what he had to do. He thought back to this morning when Jack Starbright, his housekeeper and guardian since his uncle died, had given him breakfast and tried to remember if she had said anything to him about what might me going on. Alex drew a blank.

"Are you coming to school tomorrow Alex?" Ayden asked. It had become tradition for one of his friends to always ask Alex if he was coming to school the next day. He'd been gone so much and so frequently that no one knew if they'd see him the next day, in a week, a month or a year.

As usual Alex replied with his customary answer, even though not even he knew if it was true. "Of course I'll be here tomorrow." With that Alex walked out of the classroom and down the long hallway to the office. Waiting for him was a man dressed in a black suit and he was wearing a pair of tinted black sunglasses even though they were inside the building. Alex knew where he was going now; the only thing he didn't know was why he was wanted at MI6.

He followed the man out of the school and into the waiting Rolls Royce. Alex was beginning to wonder if what he had told his friends was actually true. Would he actually be at school the next day? Alex had no idea.

That was the last time anyone saw Alex Rider, at least as the 14-year-old boy that he was at the time.

**a/n: **short but better than nothing right? I was going to have a whole other part but that would have taken a few more hours to get done right and I have PSSA testing tomorrow, again, and am not in the mood to stay up late. The next chapter will be the second part of this one. Hoped you liked it anyway. Review! –Steph


	3. Operation Triple Threat isAbout to Begin

**a/n: **hey guys, sorry it took so long. I'm back for a while, not sure how long. I might get up a few more chapters before I go to camp in July but no promises. Dirty Little Secret is next to be updated, maybe tomorrow. And Alex's hair may be blonde in the books but it's light brown here. Guess I never caught the fact that it was blonde. Whoops. And I guess I forgot to say that I know Yassen died on Air Force One, you'll see in this chapter how he's still alive. I gave a little hint on it in the first chapter though. Review. –Steph

**Note: **in the last chapter I said something about one year. That one year has been changed to two years. You'll understand later if you're confused.

**Disclaimer: **Everything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz.

**Triple Threat**

**Triple Threat**

**By: Steph (Akers2)**

Chapter Two – Operation Triple Threat Is About To Begin 

_MI6 Headquarters_

Wolf and Yassen were sitting at the table patiently talking to Blunt and Mrs. Jones about mindless things. How SAS training camp had been, the weather, that sort of thing. Despite their calm and patient exteriors they were bursting with curiosity on the inside, but they would never let that show. They were professionals, trained by the best, but that didn't mean that they weren't allowed to be curious.

Wolf and Yassen eyed each other suspiciously but did the smart thing and said nothing.

The door banged open and Alex Rider barged through, his fair hair messy. "You have great timing, whatever this is for. Got me out of the worlds' most boring history class. You know what we were learning about? The explosion of the Murmansk fleet! If you read some of the things they said about it…" Alex looked around the room. First his eyes fell on Wolf. Alex was surprised to see the leader of his bunk unit from training camp sitting with Blunt and Mrs. Jones. He eyed him warily, as if he expected his to pull another one of his tricks. Wolf had tried to get Alex thrown out of training camp on various occasions but Alex had ended up saving Wolf's career at the end of his training and then Wolf had helped Alex complete one of his missions. They weren't best mates but they weren't enemies either. They had a mutual understanding. "Hey Wolf," Alex greeted as he dropped his book bag on the floor and dropped into a seat. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey Cub," Wolf responded lightly. "I don't know why we're here; we were waiting for you to get here."

"Oh," Alex said. Alex surveyed the rest of the room. He eyed the Russian questioningly but when Yassen lifted his head and his clear blue eyes met Alex's brows ones Alex jumped backwards, almost knocking the chair over in the process. "What the hell is _he_ doing here?" Alex exclaimed outraged. "You're supposed to be dead!" he accused.

"Well obviously that is not the case," Yassen replied calmly with a light laugh, only the smallest trace of a Russian accent present in his voice.

"But I… how… Damien Cray shot you! I was there! I saw! You died!" Alex stopped when he realized he was speaking in two to three word phrases.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones addressed the fourteen-year-old boy calmly, "just sit down, we'll explain everything to you now," she asked. It was more like an order though and Alex knew that. His only choice was to sit down like asked, so he did.

The entire room was silent for a long, slightly awkward minute. "So," Alex finally broke the silence, "are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked casually but there was a definite edge in his voice.

"We will, Alex, please have some patience," Mrs. Jones requested.

More silence.

Alex eyed the Russian contract-killer warily. This was the man who had single-handedly destroyed his whole life. The man that had almost been the cause of Alex's own death, a number of times. And now, here he was. Sitting calmly across the table from Alex, looking as though everything was perfect and he had every right to be in the room.

"I'm sure you all know each other," Mrs. Jones began again, apparently Blunt was not in much of a speaking mood today. His gray eyes just soaked up every little detail about everyone in the room. When her statement did not receive so much as a nod of the head or a grunt Mrs. Jones elaborated, "Perhaps you don't all know each other yet," she mussed, sucking on a peppermint and twiddling it between her white teeth. "We have Agent Alex Rider, Agent Anthony Mason," Mrs. Jones pointed out Alex and… Wolf. _So, _Alex laughed internally, _Wolf has a name. _"And of course," Mrs. Jones said with a sweep of her hand in Yassen's direction, "Agent Yassen Gregorovich."

"What!" Alex exploded almost exactly once Mrs. Jones had stopped her introductions. "Agent?" the single word, the two syllables, startled Alex so much that all thoughts of Wolf having a real name were banished.

"Yes, Alex, Agent," Mrs. Jones said slowly as if she were speaking to a slow child and not the worlds youngest spy.

"Agent for who? Scorpia? Satan?" Alex bit back sarcastically. "He's supposed to be _dead_!"

"Quite on the contrary… Alex," Yassen said Alex's name very carefully, almost as though he wasn't quite sure how to address the boy. "I do not work for Scorpia. Or 'Satan' as you put it," Yassen laughed deeply.

"You don't work for Scorpia?" Alex said in mock surprise and astonishment. He then preceded to hold up his arm and look at his wrist carefully. "Well, would you look at that!" Alex exclaimed. "I'm growing spots! And you'll never guess what I saw on my way into this place, flying pigs! Quite amazing, isn't it?" he abruptly stopped his act and glared at Yassen.

"Alex, please," Mrs. Jones held both her hands up in front of her chest, as if to say 'spare me', "you are not fully aware of the situation and that was not appreciated," she reprimanded him sternly.

Alex leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well then, please enlighten me. I'd just love to know why I am in the same room as the man who killed my parents and my uncle and countless other people. Who, by the way, should be dead," Alex added once again.

"Enough, Alex," Mrs. Jones began but was cut off.

"I have not killed anyone," Yassen defended himself.

"And just last night I saw a fat man in a red suit with a beard coming down my chimney," Alex replied sarcastically.

"Should I find this amusing?" Yassen asked in disgust and grimaced. "I have not killed anyone," he repeated. His fair eyebrows furrowed. "I have killed some people but never have I killed your family," he amended.

Alex opened his mouth to deliver a nasty retort but Mrs. Jones jumped in once again. Mr. Blunt just continued watching them intently.

"Alex, for this to work I'll have to ask you to stop the inappropriate comments to Agent Gregorovich," Mrs. Jones said sternly.

"For what to work?" Alex asked suspiciously.

Mrs. Jones sighed. Nothing escaped Alex. Blunt, on the other hand, almost smiled at Alex's comment. He was feeling more confident and cocky then ever. Operation Triple Threat would work and by the end of their meeting it would began.

Mrs. Jones never got the chance to reply to Alex's question though.

"Your inquiries are well based, Alex," Blunt finally decided that it was time for him to join in on the meeting that he had ordered. All heads turned towards the head of MI6.

Alex grew frustrated when Blunt did not expand on his statement anymore. "Are you going to tell me why a supposed to be dead contract killer that works for the people that tried to kill me is here?" Alex prompted.

Yassen glowered at Alex's words and his blue eyes turned to ice. He opened his mouth to fire back a witty retort but Blunt held up his hand for them to stop. Yassen did not want to but, in the end, respect for Allen Blunt won out over all emotions even though it was hard. Yassen was a powerful man, loosing his control was a thing of the past.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones warned.

Alex held up his hands in surrender and waited patiently for Blunt to continue.

"You have all been brought together today," Blunt began in a voice that full of authority but a voice that lacked any emotion whatsoever, "because you are the three single most strongest and powerful men we have in our organization," Alex opened his mouth to challenge Blunt's statement, but Blunt himself beat Alex to it. "Yes, I know, Alex, Agent Gregorovich is not apart of MI6, at least as far as you know," Blunt watched Alex's face change emotions rapidly. "In fact, Agent Gregorovich has been with us all along…"

Alex's expression didn't shift an inch. He blinked slowly and deliberately. "That's not possible," he finally said.

"Isn't it, Alex?" Yassen challenged in his silky smooth voice.

"No, it isn't," Alex repeated with more emphasis. "You can't be with MI6. you've _killed_ people. For God's sake, you killed my parents and my uncle!"

"No, I did not kill your family," Yassen said once again. "I have already told you this."

"Yeah, you did," Alex said.

"I would never have killed John Rider," Yassen said, "he helped me when I was in Scorpia, he trained me. He was a great man. He saved my life," here Yassen subconsciously ran a finger along the scar on his neck. "I did not know that John Rider was with MI6 too."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "If you are supposedly 'with MI6' how did you not know who your fellow agents were?"

"I…"

"That would be our fault, Alex," Blunt cut in. Blunt folded his hands on top on the glossy table top. "Agent Gregorovich has worked for many years. We found him shortly after we found John and Ian Rider. John, as you know, was sent into Scorpia to spy for us, to put it quite simply. Agent Gregorovich then came into the picture. We sent him into Scorpia too, John had done so marvelously. He risen to the top and no one suspected him. So, we sent in another agent. Neither John nor Agent Gregorovich were informed that another of their kind was inside Scorpia. Neither Agent suspected anything, we had succeeded."

"But he's a… contract killer," Alex pointed out.

"No," Yassen denied Alex's accusation.

"Agent Gregorovich was never a contract killer," Blunt continued. "He'd always been wonderful with guns and yes, in a sense, at killing too. That seemed to be where he could make it in Scorpia. So we had him do it. Many of the people he was meant to kill were spared but there were a few that we could nothing about."

"I never killed your parents, Alex," Yassen said. "I was not assigned to that mission but I would not have been able to do it anyway. I did not kill your uncle either. I was sent on that mission, yes, but another, a younger recruit that I was meant to train was with me. He was the one who killed Ian. I never knew that they worked with MI6."

"But if you knew it was going to happen, why did you say nothing to MI6?" Alex inquired. Much to his horror, he found himself being drawn into what Yassen was telling him.

"Like I said, I did not know that he worked for MI6. I had been away; overseas at the time I got the call from Harold Sayle. I was ordered to immediately return to England and take care of it. I was not given a name, just a car description, person description and where and when I could find the car. I was not the one to fire the shots that killed Ian Rider though, that was the man that was with me. He was young and new and eager."

"Why did you tell me to go into Scorpia?" Alex demanded.

"I did not know that John worked for MI6," Yassen said once again in his Russian accent. The accent seemed to come and go as it pleased. Yassen was a master at every accent in the world and only when he truly did not have to disguise his voice did he let his true Russian accent through. "I still believed, at that time, that John Rider worked for Scorpia."

"But you knew that I worked for MI6! Why did you tell me to go to Scorpia?" Alex exclaimed.

"I was injured, that was real enough, I was not thinking clearly. I thought that maybe you were already working for Scorpia and that Scorpia had done to you what MI6 had done to me. I thought that they were using you to spy on MI6. naturally, I'd try to get you away. I should have seen it though, you were so determined that John was not an assassin, but I shrugged it aside as a… something that Scorpia was telling you," Yassen tried to defend himself.

"You died, I was there, I saw. Damien Cray shot you in the chest."

"Yes, he did shoot me, that was not planned. The bullet and the gun were real enough. I did not die though, as you can see. I merely fell into unconsciousness. MI6 paramedics later found me and I am here now. I was asked what had happened on the plane, I told them everything. About the boy called Alex Rider. I was then, and only then, told about who the Rider's truly were. But by that time I had already sent you into Scorpia, turned you against MI6."

The room was silent.

Alex turned to Blunt. Blunt's gray eyes studied Alex very carefully.

"Is he telling the truth?" Alex directed the question to Mrs. Jones. She would tell him the truth.

"Yes, Alex, that is the truth," Mrs. Jones said sadly.

"Fine, say I believe all of it?" Alex said. "Why are we all here?"

Blunt sat up straighter in his expensive leather chair. The stiff leather creaked underneath his weight slightly. "You three are here because you are three very powerful men," Blunt looked from Wolf to Alex to Yassen and back again as he spoke. "The three best men that we have in this organization. The three men with the highest potentials, three men that have all completed important, challenging missions where the odds have been against you. What do you get when you bring the three most powerful men in our country together? You get an unstoppable force," Blunt spoke affectionately about his plans.

"You are here today," Blunt continued, "Because you three are the most powerful men in this country. Take every assignment you have each successfully completed, an impressive list for you all, and multiply that by one hundred. No! One thousand! What you have done so far will become baby steps in the things you will do!

"This is Operation Triple Threat. You three will be taken to a remote and highly secure island that is a new, high class training facility for MI6. You will be the first to use it. You will spend two years there. You will train together, learn together, bunk together; you will be together 24/7. Only separate when your individual studies call. You will all become fluent in every language there is to know, we have experts for every language awaiting your arrival, and, Alex, you will continue your studies with a private tutor. You will cover the next three years of material in two years. You will have no contact with the outside world in the time you are there. No phone calls and there will be no one there besides you and your teachers. Of course you will watch the television and read the newspapers. You will learn computers and automobiles inside and out. You will learn guns and bombs and missiles like you know the back of your hand. You will be sent on mock missions on the islands. You will learn all there is to know about one another.

By the end of the two years, you will be brought back here. You will all be two years older but many years wiser and stronger. You will come back a force to reckon with. And, from then on you will work for MI6 once again… though maybe work for is too strong of a term. You will be your own force, Triple Threat," Blunt concluded his passionate, for Blunt anyway, speech.

"Am I being given a choice?" Alex asked uncertainly after a minute of mulling through the idea.

"The choice is yours, Alex," Mrs. Jones cut in. "For this operation to work and be successful you have to want to do it. I understand that you will resent us for a time while you are on the islands. You will even grow to… shall I say hate?... each other. But, in time you will become a legendary force, a force that will match and exceeded that of any other country."

Alex looked at his hands in his lap.

"I'll do it," Alex didn't need to look up to see who had spoken. The Russian accent gave it away.

"I'm in," Wolf said after several more minutes of thinking.

Alex felt every eye in the room turn on him.

"I don't want to do it," Alex said, "but even I can tell that I don't have much choice in the matter," Alex sighed. He then had to practically force the words out of his mouth. "I'll do it."

"Fabulous," Blunt said. "From this moment on you will not be know as Alex Rider or Anthony Mason or Yassen Gregorovich. Alex, you are Cub, Anthony, you are Wolf and, Yassen, you are Hunter. That is what you will be called and what you call each other for the next two years.

"Congratulations, gentlemen," Blunt said as he stood up from his chair. Alex, Wolf and Yassen followed suit partially out of politeness and partially because they were surprised at what they had just gotten themselves into. Blunt shook each of their hands with a slight enthusiasm that was a rarity in Blunt.

"Operation Triple Threat is about to begin."

**a/n: **so? Good, bad, horrible? Tell me what you think in a REVIEW. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail on the two years. I think I'll do one chapter for year one and one for year two. Any ideas for what I should do/include in this story? Review! -Steph


	4. Year OneTraining Camp From Hell

**Triple Threat**

**By: Steph (Akers2)**

Chapter Three—Year One/ Training Camp from Hell 

_Six months later_

Rain beat down on the tin roof of the small cabin. The tent like, canvas sides flapped in the fierce wind. The inside of the cabin held three metal cots that rested near the cheap wooden floor. There were three, small, metal dressers lined up side by side, all had four drawers. A metal desk occupied the only free space in the tent. Ten yards or so away was the bathroom.

All three beds were occupied. The wind howled and the rain pounded on the tin roof. Thundered boomed loud and fierce overhead with such intensity that the tin roof rattled. Bright forks of lightning lit the dark interior of the tent for several seconds before disintegrating away.

Each sleeping form was sprayed with the constant light mist of rain from the mesh sides of the cabin.

Two of the men slept soundly, they were used to these kinds of living conditions. The third tossed and turned restlessly. He jammed his pillow down over his head. He curled his knees up to his chest. He scowled into the darkness.

He should be home, in London, in his passed uncle's old town house with his house keeper Jack. He should be asleep in his comfortable bed, with blankets that kept the cold out and pajamas that were something more then… something more then what he was wearing. His house would be warm and the windows tightly sealed. The rain would be muffled on the shingled roof.

But no, he was here, in a little thing that could hardly be called a tent. He was freezing cold and wet and uncomfortable. His muscles ached and he was so tired that he wanted to cry.

He never asked for this so why was he here? Why was he here, on a remote island with no company besides to men who were older then him, teachers and drill sergeants?

He wasn't here because he wanted to be, because he had consented to being shipped off here, to somewhere that he didn't even know. Where were they? What countries were near them? He didn't know. He was here because he knew he had no other choice. They might have told him that he had choice but Alex Rider knew better then to believe that by now. He had just saved pointless arguing on his part.

He was being worked into the ground from dawn until midnight. His day started with a four mile run on the running oval that made it all the worse. Running sixteen laps, running around and around and passed the same things over and over, he could handle running in the dense woods that dominated the island but no.

Then he was forced through more drills and workouts then he could handle before he was allotted a fifteen minute break at seven o'clock am for breakfast. Breakfast wasn't much, oatmeal most days, sometimes toast and maybe a scrambled egg.

From seven-fifteen am until three pm he had his studies. Professors that were more suited to be in a college classroom crammed information into his head day after day. They were forcing four years of education into his head in two years. There were also computers and mechanics. Alex had to learn planes, cars, trucks, boats, helicopters, computers; you name it, inside and out.

After that came another fifteen minute break where lunch was served. Lunch consisted of sandwiches most of the time, maybe some chips or soup, a salad or and apple and water, lots and lots of water.

A new sergeant took over from three fifteen until five pm. He worked them through the woods. Sending his trainees over impossible obstacles built high into the trees. He, just like the other sergeants, spared no pity to the teen.

Then at five, Alex was given an hour of free time. Free time was never really free time though. If you didn't do exactly what a professor or sergeant wanted then you made it up in your free time. Free time was merely an allusion.

At six, Alex had target practice. He had to master every gun that was thrown his way. Not only shooting it but assembling and reassembling it as well. He had to shoot at impossibly small marks on trees, in the ground, floating in the ocean, hovering in the sky and he had to shoot perfectly. Dead on.

At seven thirty, there was dinner. Dinner was the only meal of the day that varied but it was still never a steak and mashed potatoes with a Caesar salad.

After dinner they were rushed right back into their training.

At eight o'clock, there was combat. Alex had to not only learn but master every form of on foot or by hand combat there was. He was knocked down more times then he cared to count.

The sergeant that started the day had them again until eleven o'clock. By that time, Alex was all but dead on his feet and he received the most trouble from that sergeant.

For the remaining hour of the night, Alex was sent on 'team building' exercises with Wolf and Yassen, or Hunter as he was now called.

He had roughly four and a half hours to sleep every night before he was thrown back into it. He had been sore and achy since the very first day. There was not enough time for things to heal. He was bruised and battered and had no doubt that he'd pulled something in his thigh but the sergeants gave no mercy from their wrath. Alex had learned to bite back the pain and work through it.

Thankfully, on Sundays they were given the day off. Almost given the day off that is. They still had the first drill sergeant until seven. Then they had breakfast for a worshipped half an hour. Then they had the sergeant that taught guns, they had combat, and were worked through the woods. At twelve o'clock they had lessons in flying planes, helicopters, driving boats, cars and anything else on wheels. From one thirty until the next morning, they were free to do as they pleased which, in Alex's case, was mostly sleeping or staying in the tent. No need to risk running into a sergeant on the grounds. God only knew they wouldn't care if it was Sunday or not.

He wasn't even referred to as Alex anymore. No, he was Cub. He wasn't even a person anymore. He was a robot that was being programmed to do exactly what the all powerful and mighty MI6 wished. He'd lost his individuality and what had been left of his childhood. Even his adventurism had been dampened.

He hated it on the island and loathed everyone there. The only class that was semi tolerable to him was tracking, which was included in the woods course. Sometimes he was let off on his own. But even that was not good enough. Every single nook and cranny of the place was secured with cameras and motion detectors and booby traps. If you weren't in exactly the right pace at the exact time then someone would know. Alex didn't know it, but his every movement was recorded and transmitted to England where Blunt and Mrs. Jones watched him and Wolf and Yassen. They were live entertainment, for want of a better word.

Alex envied Wolf and Yassen with a passion, and yet he loathed them to the pits of hell. If they had any pain they didn't show it. They didn't show their weakness. The sergeants and professors went easier on them and that made Alex despise everyone the more. He knew what they thought about him, he could see it clearly in their eyes every time he saw anyone. He was just a boy, fourteen-years-old. They didn't think he should be there, they didn't want him to be there and they made no motion to hide their thoughts. They were determined to tell Alex just exactly how they felt about him. Alex was insulted and screamed at for countless hours in the day.

He'd never longed for Brookland prep and its laid back schedule or the teachers that showed some emotion and had other volumes besides loud and louder so before now. He missed everything about home but what he missed most was the company of someone his age. He had stuffy professors and drill sergeants and two men that were substantially older them him for companions.

He was meant to be getting closer to Wolf and Yassen but he had never hated, despised, loathed, them more then he did at that very moment as they slept soundly in their beds.

Alex seemed to only drift off for several seconds before the door to the cabin/tent banged open and drill sergeant number ones broad shoulders and very muscular abdomen emerged from the dark, rainy depths of the early morning. He clomped on his feet that were in heavy, black combat boots. He blew the blow horn that he held in his hand and blew on his whistle simultaneously.

Alex sprang upright and then collapsed back onto his bed, wishing for just five more minutes of sleep. Wolf and Hunter were already up and pulling on their clothes for that day.

"GET YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THAT BED, BOY! NOW!" the sergeant thundered as he lent over Alex's head. "I AM NOT HERE TO BABYSIT LITTLE BOYS WHO WANT TO SLEEP! WOULD YOU LIKE TO RUN TWENTY MILES THIS MORNING?" the sergeant roared as Alex stumbled out of bed. "ANSWER ME, BOY!"

"No," Alex mumbled as he grabbed his clothes.

"NO WHAT?" the sergeant yelled back getting right in Alex's face.

"No, sir."

"YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO REPORT TO THE OVAL OR YOU _WILL_ BE RUNNING TWENTY!" the sergeant stomped out of the tent and slammed the door behind him.

Wolf and Hunter were already dressed. They walked silently towards the door and disappeared into the rain that still pounded on with a vengeance without a word.

Alex clambered out of the pair of scratchy black sleep pants he wore and pulled on the mandatory black cargo pants. He left the gray t-shirt on and pulled an army green sweatshirt on over his head. He pulled on a pair of thick, black socks and then pulled on the combat boots. He carefully made sure that his pants were tucked into them before lacing them up, no need to give the sergeant another reason to yell at him.

Alex ran a hand through his hair, still not used to the close cut that it had been shaved to upon his arrival and once every month since then. It had gown back slightly since the last cut and stuck out at odd angles at places. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and walked out into the rain.

The rain fell hard and fast and in such thick sheets that it was virtually impossible to see where he was going. Within seconds, Alex was drenched and shivering.

Alex made it to the training oval just in time, only seconds to spare. The sergeant noticed this with furry. The sergeant stood by the training oval. Two dark, blurry figures jogged by, side-by-side. Their strides were quick, powerful and long. They ran in unison, their feet pounding into the puddles that covered the track.

"SLEEPING BEAUTY FINALLY DECIDED TO SHOW US HIS PRETTY LITTLE FACE!" the sergeant yelled to be heard over the rain, he would have yelled even if it had been sunny though. He didn't seem to know how to talk a normal level. "WOLF AND HUNTER ARE ON THEIR SECOND MILE!" he roared in Alex's face. Alex stood still and no emotion reached his face, his eyes were blank and emotionless. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING, BOY? GET THAT SKINNY ASS OF YOUR MOVING!"

Alex trudged through the wet slosh that was grass.

"THIS IS NOT PRESCHOOL, BOY! WE ARE NOT LITTLE GIRLS WHO FROLIC THROUGH THE GRASS WITH THE LITTLE BIRDIES AND MAKE FLOWER CROWNS! PICK UP YOUR FEET AND _MOVE_!"

Alex jogged onto the track, the muscles in his legs and back screamed at him to stop. His boots pounded heavily into the track that, by that time, had been churned to a mixture of gravel, mud and water. His boots were a muddy mess within minutes.

"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" the sergeant roared at Alex. He had appeared at Alex's side seemingly out of no where and was pounding along beside the teen. "WERE NOT TAKING A STROLL IN THE PARK, BOY! MOVE!"

Alex picked up his feet and pounded ahead faster. Thankfully, the sergeant let him go.

The hood had long ago fallen from his head, not that it would have done any use now. Alex was completely saturated and chilled to the bone. Rivulets that were closer to small rivers poured down in his face and his hair was dripping water down his back. He couldn't see more then three feet in front of himself as he ran but he didn't dare break his stride. The sergeant saw everything that happened.

"FASTER, BOY! YOU'RE PRACTICALLY WALKING!" the sergeant's voice filled his head. The voice came from all directions.

Alex ran ahead faster, desperate to escape. But there was no escape. For the next eighteen months, there was no escape.

Alex drifted to the outer edge of the track as he reached Wolf and Yassen. Their stride was still the same, steady and strong. Their legs moved in unison. The sergeant did not pay them as much as a passing glance.

It seemed like an eternity before the four miles were done. Alex, of course, was the last to finish.

The sergeant led them over to the training course set out in the middle of the oval.

His string of angry and harsh and critical words never ceased once as Alex climbed over brick and wooden walls and jogged with his knees to his chest through tires. His hands burned from sliding down wet ropes. Alex sprinted through a muddy ditch, at the end of his sprint waited a pit of thick, oozing mud with barbed wire close above.

Alex got down on his hands and knees. A hard boot stomped onto his back with such a force that Alex had his breath knocked out from him. He landed with a splat in the mud.

"THIS ISN'T GIRL SCOUTS, BOY; A LITTLE MUD WON'T HURT YOU!"

Alex pulled himself through the thick, slimy mud with his arms and legs. Pushing with his knees and thighs and pulling with his arms. The sergeant stamped alongside Alex and his face was splattered with mud. Once he stood again, Alex's front was covered and dripping with brown mud. He tried to wipe some away from his face but his hands were covered in mud and he smeared it across his mouth.

"DO YOU LIKE MUD, BOY? IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS MOVING IT WILL BE YOUR BREAKFAST!"

Alex pushed himself forwards, onto the next obstacle.

The sergeant let them go on time. He spat profanities at Alex's back until Alex disappeared from sight. The two men and one teenager trudged back to their tent in silence.

Alex pulled the completely saturated sweatshirt over his head, mud dripped onto the floor below. The cold air caused him to shiver as he drenched t-shirt blew back against his skin. He pulled it off and whipped all of the mud from his face. He pulled of his boots with difficulty, his hands slid against the slick coating of slippery mud. Finally, he got them off and hurled them at the side of the tent. They made a dull swishing noise as they collided with the canvas wall. Both boots lay in a pathetic heap in the corner, the canvas sheet was streaked with mud.

Once Alex had pulled on a fresh pair of black cargo pants, gray t-shirt and army green sweatshirt he pulled a second pair of boots out from under his bed and pulled them on. He sat down on his bed as he laced them up. Alex shifted his weight on the bed and the only sound in the room was the creaking on the springs.

Alex pulled the long laces through holes and around hooks; finally he tied them at the top in a vicious knot. He scowled down at the ground as he scuffed his boots along the floor.

Yassen and Wolf had already changed and, for once, they had not left the tent immediately.

Alex stood up and noticed that they were still there. A brief touch of confusion crept into his dark eyes before he replaced it all with the scowl that was almost permanently imprinted into his face.

He grabbed the black raincoat from his dresser and pulled it on; he pulled the hood up over his head. He cursed the sergeant some more for not allowing them to wear the jackets during his reign of terror.

"Al- Cub," Wolf spoke up. His voice was deep and calm.

Alex froze, his back turned to the two older men. "What?" he said in a harsh voice.

"Don't let him get to you," Yassen spoke next, his voice accented with Russian. He did not need to specify who the 'him' was.

Alex spun around, rage evident on his face. "And how do you suggest I do that?" he demanded fierily. "He doesn't even bother _you_," Alex accused vehemently.

"He's only getting on you because you're younger," Wolf pointed out. Alex bit back the sarcastic replies that were on the tip of tongue and settled for glaring at Wolf and Hunter instead. "Just don't let what he says get to you."

Alex remained silent and merely blinked several times.

"Yes," Yassen broke the silence. "He wants to know that his words are getting to you, don't let him have that satisfaction. He knows that it won't work on Wolf or myself, that's why he's not as hard on us."

"Exactly," Wolf seconded. "He'll never let up completely on you but just don't pay attention to his words and insults and criticism and he'll be more bearable."

Alex stared at Wolf and Yassen in shock. "Why are you doing this?" he asked finally. He continued before either man had the chance to answer his sudden and unexpected question. "Why am I even here? I don't want to be here, hell, I'd rather be anywhere else then here! MI6 made a mistake when they picked me to be on this ridiculous mission. I shouldn't be here; I should be back in London, just waking up for school. I should spend the day with my friends; people my own age and learning things that were meant to be learnt at my age. But no! I'm here and I'm learning fighting and guns and more languages then I care to know. I'm learning material that I should be learning two years from now! I'm being shouted at and criticized and insulted every second of the day, being woken at ridiculous hours and being forced through things when it's cold and pouring rain! Fuck," Alex cursed, "he just pushed me down in mud. Teachers aren't allowed to _do_ that!"

"They are here," Wolf cut into Alex's rant.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Alex agreed tersely. "And that's why I'm quitting. I'll call MI6 somehow and I'll tell them I quit. I'll be home by this time tomorrow. I'll sleep in my own bed in my warm house and eat good food."

"You can't quit," Yassen said quickly.

"Want to bet?" Alex shot back fiercely. "Just watch me."

"What about… Triple Threat?" Wolf asked quietly.

Alex paused, it would have been cool to be apart of it… but no. He couldn't take this anymore, he wanted out and dammit out was what he was going to get. He didn't care what it took but he was leaving that Godforsaken island one way or another. "You two can do it by yourself," Alex said hotly. "MI6 can get another agent to take my place or you can be Double Threat or The Terrible Duo or something."

"They won't replace you," Yassen said confidently.

"Then goodbye Triple Threat, hello The Terrible Duo," Alex said emotionlessly.

"Do you think that they'll actually let you leave?" Wolf spoke this time.

"I don't care what they want me to do!" Alex exclaimed. "I'm leaving and you can just try to stop me," he challenged.

"You're acting like a spoilt brat," Wolf chided.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Wolf shot back. "You're running away just when things get a little tough, more difficult then you are used to. But you know what, Cub? You can't run away from everything. What are you going to do? Return back home and to your school and pretend like nothing has happened? Are you going to just walk away from MI6? Because you may be able to leave MI6 but it will always be apart of you and you know it."

"A little tough?" Alex echoed incredulously. "A little tough?" he repeated with a short, sharp, humorless laugh. "That's like saying that when the Titanic hit the iceberg you're saying the Titanic ran into a spot of bother!"

"We've both had it, Cub," Yassen spoke up. Alex turned to look at the Russian slowly. "Do you think that I haven't had a sergeant like him? Do you think that Wolf hasn't had one like him? We've all had sergeants like him, someone that goes out of their way to make things hard for you. But do you know _why_ he does that? It's not just because he gets pleasure from knowing that his words affect you, it's because he knows that you have talent and he's just trying to show you that in his own way, however sick, twisted and masochistic that way may be. He can see that you have talent, hell; even a blind man could see that you have talent, Cub! He's just trying to make you see that fact for yourself, because honestly, you haven't seen it for yourself yet," Yassen finished his speech.

Alex stood still and silently as he digested what Yassen had just told him. His face was somber.

No one spoke for five minutes. No one needed to, everyone knew what had been decided, and there was no need to say it.

"Come one," Wolf said, stepping towards the door. He swung it open and was met with sunshine. Birds chirped gaily in the trees. Wolf tossed his jacket to the floor and Yassen did the same. "We have five minutes until classes start, I don't know about you guys but I could sure go for some of that mush they serve us right about now," Wolf joked. Wolf flashed a crooked smile that lit up his handsome face.

A similar emotion spread across the Russians equally as handsome face. "I second that."

The two men walked out of the door and Alex was left standing in the middle of the tent.

"Cub! Let's go!" Wolf yelled from outside the door, beckoning for Alex to hurry up. "Second most important rule of being in training, don't give anyone another reason to punish you more!"

Alex dropped his jacket to the floor and stepped out into the sun. The sun beat down bright against his shoulders and the cold that had seeped into him before was warmed.

The three men walked confidently towards the mess hall, talking about nothing of great importance.

Even Allen Blunt and Tulip Jones, who had watched the whole morning on TV's at MI6 headquarters ten thousand miles away in London smiled in triumph. Mrs. Jones smiled widely and while Blunt's facial expression could hardly be classified as a smile it was still close for him.

Operation Triple Threat had finally begun.

**a/n: **I forgot how much I liked this story! Hope it was okay of a chapter. I swear I'll update DLS soon, later today maybe. Or tomorrow, I have finals tomorrow morning but will get home early. Review! -Steph


	5. Year TwoThe Medallion

**a/n: **Alex, Wolf and Yassen are going to be referred as Cub, Wolf and Hunter from this chapter on because that is what their identities are now.

**Disclaimer:** Everything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz

**Triple Threat**

**By: Steph (Kalinichenko19)**

Chapter 4- Year Two/The Medallion 

_Last day on the Island _

The boy that crept through the forest, keeping close to the wild ferns and the dirt ground below, was not the fourteen-year-old, English boy who had arrived on the island almost exactly two years earlier. No, now he was sixteen. He was taller and his shoulders broader. Alex had not only grown physically but mentally too. He had learnt everything his once peers had plus more material that they would not even think about until college. He had learned many languages; information on anything and everything had been drilled relentlessly into his head.

He'd given up fighting it long ago. There really was no point. Of course there were those days when Alex wanted to quit and go home, leaving MI6 and the crazy island behind forever but… the truth was, that when he thought about it, Triple Threat was pretty cool. Alex had grown closer to Wolf and Hunter (Yassen) over the two years they'd been stuck together on the island, they were better then friends to Alex then even his peers at school had once been. They just had more in common with each other. Odd things can happen when one is stuck with a person for two years without any other company.

This was a day that the three men had been waiting for, for exactly two years. Today was the day it all ended. Training ended and the real stuff began.

It didn't escape any of their minds that this was their chance to prove themselves, to prove that Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones had been right in what they had told them so long ago in the stuffy office room.

Neither Wolf, Hunter nor Cub were aware of the fact that Blunt and Mrs. Jones had already watched every day of their training in their comfy, warm and secure offices in England. But, they all three knew that today they were being watched and observed and if they failed to meet even one demand they would be subjected to another two years in hell.

As Cub moved swiftly and silently across the forest floor, he was aware of all those things. He pushed all thoughts about anything other then what he was doing from his mind. If he was to succeed then he would need his full concentration.

Cub froze at the sound of a planes engine overhead. He dropped instantly to the dirt ground and lay flat on his stomach among the ferns, tall grasses and forest plants. He covered his head with his hands and stayed very still. Cub waited until the planes engine was but a soft pure in the distance before climbing smoothly back to his feet. He readjusted the camouflage helmet that sat atop his head and brushed some of the dirt off of the front of his camouflage long sleeved, canvas shirts and pants.

As he walked forwards once again, his location and mission firmly in his head, his combat boot clad feet padded across the forests ground without a sound. He picked his way carefully around dried leaves, mud, puddles of water, rocks and sticks, anything that would make his presence known to the enemy.

Cub stopped once again when he spotted a figure that was partially behind a tree up ahead. The persons back was turned to him. Cub positioned his black, military gun across his chest, aiming it at the person incase it was an enemy.

Cub deliberately stepped on the stick that was in front of his feet. The small yet sharp snap sounded clear throughout the forest.

Cub allowed himself a small grin as he watched the back of the person tense upon hearing the twig snap in half. The person turned around and Cub quickly noted that it was neither Hunter nor Wolf. Before the man before him could even react to his presence, Cub squeezed his finger on the trigger of the gun and a yellow ball of paint sped forwards, splashing into the left side of the man's chest.

The man scowled a bit but sat down on the ground anyway.

The guns were loaded with paint balls and each man was given his own color of paint. Cub's color was yellow. If you were shot with a paint ball, you were "killed" or "severely wounded" and "died". You were then unable to get up and move about or talk to any of the others. Once the "mission" was complete, sergeants would enter the forest and take down notes of who had been "shot down" where and by whom.

There were two teams in the mock mission. One team consisted of Cub, Hunter and Wolf. The second team was made up of their teachers, several sergeants and anyone else that was on the island. Cub, Hunter and Wolf were terribly outnumbered.

The mission was to retrieve a necklace that held a valuable, gold pendant. The pendant was located somewhere in the middle of the forest, locked in a small safe that was guarded heavily. Cub had succeeded in taking down five members of the opposing team so far.

Cub did not, however, know what had become of Hunter and Wolf. Unlike the opposing team, who were stationed inside the forest early in the day, Cub, Hunter and Wolf were taking over the forest in a plane and had to parachute down at random spots, alone. They were each given a map and the trio had devised a meeting spot that was neither too close nor too far from their final destination.

The only rule upon entering the forest had been not to fire at an opponents face. You could hit the helmet but not the unprotected face. No one was meant to actually be hurt in the training round. They had all been told to just go into the forest and get their job down as efficiently and cleanly as possible. There was also the well know rule that once you were "dead" you could not speak and there were no hostages and you could not communicate with people not on your team.

Cub consulted his map quickly and then checked the compass that was clipped to his belt. After finding north, Cub shifted slightly until he was facing north east. He dropped the compass once again and it hit against his leg lightly and he set off, leaving the "fallen" man behind, the bright yellow paint splattered across his chest.

As he walked through the forest, Cub's attentive eyes carefully scoured his surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. He knew the forest like the back of his own hand but booby traps would undoubtedly have been added for this last training exercise. Obstacles in the forest were constantly to changing to insure that Hunter, Cub or Wolf didn't get too comfortable with their surroundings or too cocky.

Cub stopped as something glinted before his face. He looked around but couldn't spot anyone. He looked forwards again and there it was. Something glinted. The sun hit off of whatever it was and flashed a small array of rainbow colors. Cub looked down at the ground and noticed that his toes were right on the edge of a pile of scattered leaves and ferns. He reached his hand out to where he had seen the glint and the tips of his fingers lightly found a string of metal. He looked up and almost laughed aloud. They were right under a tree. It just couldn't be any easier.

Careful not to step on the pile of leaves, Cub moved deftly around the trap and picked up a large rock. He carried it back to the pile of debris and dropped it right in the middle. Cub jumped back and it took a moment for anything to happen. Cub watched with a raised eyebrow as the pile of leaves and forest debris finally fell to the side as a net came up from the ground, trapping the rock and flying up to hang suspended halfway between the ground and the top of the tree. Excess leaves floated down from the net to land at Cub's feet.

Cub looked around once more for the people that would have assembled the rig. There was a slight commotion behind the tree and four people stumbled out in shock and surprise to look at the net. Cub ducked behind a bush and watched as the four people, three men and one woman, watched as the rock swung back and forth in the net in confusion. The four had not the sense to even raise their guns and were all too easily "killed" by Cub.

The four sat on the forest floor and Cub stepped away from his spot behind the bush. The four adults pouted when they saw that they had been "taken down" by a mere sixteen-year-old but remained silent all the same.

Cub felt that maybe it wasn't completely fair seeing as he had just "gunned down" his Spanish, Ukrainian, Italian and mathematics teachers but their was a strange sense of power from "killing" his teachers. Cub quickly continued on his way, checking his surroundings more carefully then the last time. He had come close to capture and primarily defeat. He'd never here the end of it if Hunter and Wolf found him swinging in the air.

Cub finally made it to the large tree that had been agreed on as their meeting spot. Cub looked around with his experienced eyes, moving fast but not missing a thing. He saw neither Hunter nor Wolf. Cub stepped further into the clearing and raised his gun, on the off chance that Hunter and Wolf had been found here and "killed". He walked slowly around the tree but didn't see either of his partners. He looked up into the leafy fortress but found neither man there either.

He stopped under the tree and looked around with a frown. He had been sure that Wolf and Hunter would have already been there. Or at least one would have beaten him there.

Cub stopped his thinking and searching when he felt something hit his helmet with a soft 'ping' and then bounce to the ground. He glanced down to his feet and picked up a small pebble. Several more pebbles bounced off of his helmet and he looked up. Wolf and Hunter were perched on a branch that hung over Cub's head. They both dropped nimbly to their feet and grinned at Alex.

"If we were the enemy you would have been dead, Cub," Hunter chided him cheerfully, dropping a handful of rocks back to the ground. Wolf reciprocated the action.

Cub rolled his eyes; he was used to Hunter's teasing manner. "Good thing you're not the enemy then," was how Cub replied, using a low voice. "And good luck killing me with little pebbles," Cub added just for good measure. Cub ducked behind Wolf as Hunter pelted another pebble at him, the pebble soared harmlessly over Wolf's shoulder to land with a small 'plop' in a puddle of water.

"We're being timed on this, you know," Wolf cut in before Hunter could say or do anything else. "How many men have you taken down, Cub?"

Cub turned his attention back to Wolf and he was focused on the task that lay ahead once again. "Nine."

"Good," Wolf nodded in approval. "I've gotten ten and Hunter's gotten seven."

Cub found it amusing that the former assassin was the one to "kill" the least amount of people. Hunter noticed Cub's expression and was quick to defend himself, "They dropped me off closest to the tree, I only got the ones guarding it."

"Where are the bodies?" Cub looked around with a frown, not seeing any.

"They weren't right near the tree, a ways off a bit; I caught them on my way here."

"Oh."

"Run into any traps, Cub?" Wolf quizzed Cub some more. Wolf was one of those people that were all fun and games when he wasn't working but as soon as he was working he quickly became serious and attentive.

"One, it wasn't a very good one though," Cub quickly recounted the tale of finding the trap and "killing" his four teachers.

Even Wolf had to laugh softly. "You'd think that they'd bring in some people that knew what the hell they were doing for this."

"You'd think," Hunter echoed.

"We should get going," Wolf started. "The sooner we get this done with the sooner we get back to civilization."

"Let's go!" Cub agreed enthusiastically.

"Yes, I wonder if they'll give a small break," Hunter wondered allowed.

"Hopefully," Wolf seconded.

"What do we do now?" Cub turned to the two older men.

"I've already seen the spot they're guarding the medallion," Wolf said. "They dropped me off almost right on top of it. No one saw me though and I didn't stop to take down any of the guards. There were about twenty guards, I'd say. They're not all stationed right around the safe that holds the medallion, they're more scattered through the trees around it. I say we stick together from now until we just about get to the medallion, then we split up and attack from three sides, keeping quiet so as we're not spotted unless absolutely necessary. If you see a man don't hesitate, just shoot them, just make sure that it's none of us first," Wolf added wryly.

"That would be bad," Hunter agreed with a small grin. "Especially when they count the number of "dead" bodies and see one of our colors on a team mate."

"Exactly," Wolf agreed before continuing his plan. Wolf had been unofficially named the leader in the trio. "Cub and Hunter, you will take care of the guards around the outside of the clearing, you will meet after you have both cleaned through a half. I will take care of the guards closer to center. After you find each other, you will both make your way to the clearing, where I should already be. Cub, you will figure out the combination to open the safe since you are the best out of the three of us at that stuff, "Cub nodded his okay, "while Hunter and myself watch you back. We will guard you at all costs and if need be, sacrifice ourselves so that you can get the medallion out. As soon as you touch it, the game is over."

"Right," Cub said.

"Watch for traps and such on the way," Hunter warned. "Once we leave this spot there won't be anymore talking."

"Exactly," Wolf agreed. "As they said, finish quickly and efficiently. This is our chance to impress the bosses, unless of course you'd like to stay here for another two years," Wolf raised an eyebrow. Cub and Hunter shook their heads firmly, both firmly set on completing the task. "Right, then we'll go now, make sure not to leave any mark that we've been somewhere and move silently."

It had become a custom for them to repeat the most basic and beginner rules just incase someone did slipped up and make an amateurs mistake there was no one to take blame but that person. Of course, neither Hunter, Wolf nor Cub had made any stupid, little mistakes for quite a longtime.

They all made their agreement known.

Wolf, Cub and Hunter moved stealthily off into the forest. Wolf was in the lead with Hunter and Cub coming up on either of his sides, just a few feet back and farther to the side. The moved in a way that was similar to the formation the Blue Angels flew, in a sort of triangle.

They used the cover of trees and bushes and wild plants to their advantage they moved silently across the ground, avoiding any obstacle or natural element that could possibly alert their enemy of their presence. They each held their paint filled gun at a ready position so that they would be able to defend themselves and each other as fast as the situation called for it.

After they had walked nearly a half mile in silence, Wolf put his arms out to signal Hunter and Cub to cease their movement. Wolf crept off into the forest a little ways and was soon out of sight from the other two. Hunter and Cup quickly took shelter behind bushes and awaited the return of Wolf.

Wolf returned several minutes later. Hunter and Cub abandoned their hiding spots and Wolf nodded at them, silently telling them that the way was clear. Wolf raised one and held his hand up so that his palm faced the ground. That was their signal to keep low to the ground and to watch their back, they had entered enemy territory.

Once Wolf had finished completing his message using the silent gestures the three had come up with together, he started back into the woods, the way he had just come from. Hunter and Cub fell back into their triangular formation behind him.

They continued until they came upon the "fallen" figures of two guards. The two guards sat side by side, leaning their backs against a tree, silently watching the forest. They each sported a blob of orange paint on their chests. Their eyes watched intently as Wolf directed Hunter and Cub into the clearing before stopping them once again.

Wolf signaled Hunter to move off to the right side. Wolf and Cub watched in silence as Hunter moved off into the trees. Hunter was soon engulfed from the others sight and Wolf turned to Cub. Wolf pointed to his left, the signal for Cub to go left. Cub nodded his head slightly and set off to the left.

Cub soon noticed the pattern for how the guards were placed. About every twenty yards or so, there were two guards stationed. The forest provided Cub with enough cover to be able to aim and shoot his enemies successfully. A few guards took a shot at him but Cub was able to avoid all flying balls of paint. The guards, on the other hand, weren't quite so fortunate.

Cub kept his eyes alert for booby traps and disabled one more hidden net and two stick covered ditches. Every guard that was in his path was now seated on their butt in the dirt, a nice, big, yellow paint splatter on their chest or, if he was sure he wouldn't miss, on the helmet.

Cub was beginning to feel that it had been much too easy.

Cub figured that he must be ending his half of the circle but stayed deep within the cover the forest provided for him.

He thought he heard the rustle of leaves up ahead and quickly dropped down to the ground. Cub pulled himself forwards, under the bushes and ferns and various other plants using his elbows and his knees. He paused briefly as he felt a thorn tear across his cheek. He swiped his hand across his cheek quickly, hardly glancing at the sticky, wet blood that was glistening there. He started on his mission once again, wiping the blood away with his hand whenever he could feel it start to trickle down his cheek.

Cub finally stopped his forward movement when the bushes became fewer and farer between. He stayed safely under the last patch of bushes. Cub looked around and quickly took in his surroundings. There were no guards that were visible to him from his spot stretched out on the ground.

The sharp chirping of a bird cut through the eerie silence that filled the forest. Cub waited a moment and the chirping stopped. Several seconds passed and the chirping started again. Cub tentatively let out a little bark that could be identified as that of a small wolfs or a small dogs. A 'cub's' if you will. The bird chirped again and stopped after a second.

Hunter stepped from around the back of a tree and Cub drug himself out from under the bushes with his arms. He jumped to his feet and brushed the dirt off of his front and wiping the blood away from his cheek again.

Hunter gave Cub a silent, questioning look and touched his own cheek. Cub shook his head to dismiss all "questions" about his cheek.

As Hunter and Cub walked through the forest, they watched for any guards that Wolf might have missed on his rounds. They passed a number of disabled traps and even more guards seated on the ground, orange paint splattered on various places of their bodies. All the "fallen" guards watched silently as Hunter and Cub passed them, not sparing them so much as a glance.

Hunter and Cub did not stop until they reached the edge of the clearing. The stayed carefully behind several trees to keep their cover and looked out into the clearing. Wolf sat on the top of a small safe that was in the middle of the field. His gun was poised and he kept looking around. Wolf's eyes locked on the spot where Hunter and Cub stood. Wolf let out a low, Wolf like growl that he followed with a howl.

There was a moment of silence and the wind rustled through the trees over their heads. Cub returned Wolf's call with a sharp bark, one that could have been issued by an actual wolf cub.

Cub and Hunter watched Wolf. He stood up and did a final survey of the surrounding woods. Wolf fired his gun several times and orange paint splattered on the trees. The gun only released a small click every time it was fired. Wolf paused a moment to see if someone would respond to his fires but nothing came. He signaled to Hunter and Cub that it was safe for them to enter the clearing.

Hunter and Cub joined Wolf in the center by the safe. Cub immediately knelt on the ground before the safe and fingered the combination lock. He glanced behind himself quickly and saw Wolf take a ready stance behind him. Hunter took up a similar stance in front of Cub. Both men raised their guns and pointed them into the forest.

Cub turned back to the safe and heaved the safe onto its side, checking the bottom for numbers. He then checked the sides of the safe. The first move he had been taught to make. Odds were that he would not find the combination on the actual safe but it was always wiser to check. Cub found a series of three double digit numbers on the back of the safe in small, raised numbers in the bottom corner. Cub quickly and expertly spun the numbers into the lock but was not rewarded with the click of it opening. He tried the handle once anyway and found it locked tight.

Cub then leant his head close to the combination lock and ran his fingers over the smooth, black substance, looking for numbers that weren't there. He glanced around quickly and saw no one from the opposing team coming so he tried a few random number combinations. Nothing worked.

"Hurry it up, Cub," Wolf hissed in a low voice from behind him.

Cub remained silent. Hunter glanced in Cub's direction quickly before his assertive eyes returned to the forest and the trees ahead. The afternoon sun shone bright over their heads and Cub worked quickly. He checked everything he could think of for numbers. He tossed his map moodily to the side upon finding nothing upon it.

"Hurry," Hunter said quickly. His eyes fixed on a spot in the woods. Wolf's eyes were also fixed on a spot in front of him.

Cub paused for a moment, fresh out of ideas for what to do. "I've got it!" he exclaimed softly as an idea struck him. He fumbled momentarily in his pockets for the picture of the medallion they had each been given. Cub ignored the picture; it was just a hunk of gold in a circle with some symbols on it. He looked on the bottom of the medallion, looking for a serial number, any number that could possibly open the safe. There wasn't anything there. As a last effort, Cub turned the picture over and prayed there was something on the back.

And there was his combination. It faint, orange letters, the date the picture was taken. Cub dropped the picture to the dirt after committing the combination to memory.

A tremendous roar arose from all sides and more players dressed from head to toe in black swarmed into the clearing. Black balls of paint flew everywhere.

"Shit," Wolf growled and he and Hunter tried to defend themselves and Cub. Orange and red balls of paint flew across the clearing, taking down a good portion of the oncoming army. "Now would be a good time to open that safe up, Cub!" he yelled loudly.

"I've almost got it!" Cub returned. As he spun the first two numbers in. the third number was in the safe clicked open. Cub threw the safes door open as fast as he could and looked it. He groaned. It was filled with multicolored Styrofoam peanuts. He dug them out like a dog would dig a hole in the ground. The multicolored Styrofoam pieces flew behind him as Cub took them out.

A quick glance told him that Wolf and Hunter were both still standing but neither man could last long against the sheer amount of people that were know firing at the three of them. Hunter and Wolf easily dodged most of the paintballs but wouldn't move from where they stood around Cub.

A black ball of paint burst on the back of the safe and Cub felt the wet paint splatter his face. He hadn't technically been "hit" so he continued his work. He felt on the bottom of the safe and pulled out a package wrapped in bubble wrap. Another paintball filled with black paint hit the safe and Cub worked faster. He pulled the bubble wrap off and tore through the small, cardboard box. There was only a plastic, Ziploc bag between him and his goal now.

Cub's fingers pulled back the seal on the bag.

On of the guards in black raised his gun and aimed it at Cub. He had a surprisingly clear shot. His finger tightened on the trigger and the gun spat out a black ball of paint with a small click.

Wolf saw it before Hunter.

Wolf stepped in front of Cub.

Black paint splattered onto Wolf's thigh.

Wolf slowly sat down to the ground but he took three other men down with him, firing off his gun until the very last moment.

"I've got it!" Cub yelled and yanked the medallion out of the plastic baggie at last.

A loud buzzer sounded as soon as Cub's fingers met with the cool gold. Everyone in the clearing stopped what they were doing and the guns ceased their chatter. The last of the paintballs flew and the last of the "dead" "fell".

The clearing was silent. A sergeant came and took down the fallen and the still standing. Once the sergeant retreated back into the woods Hunter and Cub made their way over to where Wolf sat in the dirt. Wolf got to his feet and looked in disgust at the wet paint dripping down his thigh.

"Sorry 'bout that, Wolf," Cub said sincerely.

Wolf shrugged. "We said we'd sacrifice ourselves for you if it was necessary. You almost had the medallion and it only hit my leg. If it was real life, I'd still be alive. Thank God you were kneeling down though," Wolf grinned.

Cub held the medallion up over his head and Wolf and Hunter looked at it. the sun glinted off of the gold.

"To civilization!" Cub yelled at the top of his lungs. "To a day off!"

Wolf and Hunter echoed Cub's 'toast' with loud whoops of joy. The guards could only watch in grim fascination, too fatigued to even get off the ground if they were there. Some were covered in multiple paint spots, both red and orange.

"TO CIVILIZATION! TO A DAY OFF!"

**a/n: **so? I don't like the first few paragraphs but when it starts on Cub in the woods I think it gets better. All in all, it was an okay chapter. I know some of you will disagree with me on that. It was fun to write though. The next chapter includes Hunter, Wolf and Cub's meeting with Blunt and Jones and then their free day in London! That will be fun, guess why! I caught myself saying 'Alex' instead of 'Cub' a bunch of times but I might have missed it in some places. Still trying to get used to typing 'Cub'. Sorry I haven't got time for editing. Hope you liked this chapter! Review! -Steph


	6. Free Day in London

**-- Authors Note --**

This chapter is going to be fun too write and I hope you guy think that it is fun to read too. This is the chapter that I have been waiting to write! I know that some of you probably object to Alex being called Cub. I changed Alex's name to Cub because, really, that's who he is now. Alex has not been called Alex in two years, Alex Rider no longer exists. Now it is Cub or whatever name MI6 will choose to give him on missions. I miss 'Alex' though, too, it just makes more sense as Cub in this particular story. Hope you enjoy this chapter and review! And tell me if my "Britishisms" are better in this chapter! I tried, really I did.

-Steph

**Disclaimer: **My name is Steph and I am a fourteen-year-old girl living in the United States. I am only writing for fun and am not being paid for this. Do you see any connection whatsoever with me and Anthony Horowitz? Didn't think so. That being said please don't sue me. I'm saving my money to buy another Ukraine soccer jersey because my mom won't buy me anymore and I won't be able to afford the law suit.

**Triple Threat**

**By Steph (Kalinichenko19)**

Chapter 5- Free Day in London

Cub, Hunter and Wolf were picked up and taken back to their bunkhouse via chopper for the last time ever. Even so, the group that collected their scarce amount of belongings in a single duffle bag each was a joyous bunch. Finally, after two years of nonstop work they would get a much deserved break, at least they all hoped that that would be the case.

They only stopped briefly to clean themselves up and put on a fresh uniform. They fought over who was first in the measly bathroom for the last time ever. Cub, being just slightly shorter then the two men, ducked around them and claimed the bathroom as his as Hunter and Wolf protested outside of the door.

"I got the medallion!" Cub reminded them. "I get first shower!"

"I got shot with paint!" Wolf was quick to fire back. "Trying to save _your_ ass!" He added.

Hunter had nothing to say and sat back on the grass, watching Wolf and Cub argue through a closed door. Finally, Cub just turned on the shower and chose to ignore Wolf's yelling and banging. Hunter laughed from the sidelines. By watching them at just that moment, one could never guess that they were highly trained and skilled individuals in the ways of war, fighting and spying. They looked like three regular guys joking around together.

For the first time in a long two years they really were carefree and happy. Sure, all too soon they'd be faced with more challenges that pushed them all too there limits but for that moment none of it mattered. For the moment they could all be regular guys, laughing and joking around with each other.

After they were all dressed in clean and matching uniforms (black pants, black combat boots and a navy blue t-shirt) they all gathered their duffle bags, dumped them into the back of the black Hummer that waited for them outside of their bunkhouse and got in. The driver was silent as he drove across the island to the small airport equipped with runways and hangers on the other side of the island.

Wolf, Cub and Hunter were led to a single plane that sat in the middle of the deserted tarmac. The stairs were lowered and they eagerly climbed up, welcoming the cool, air-conditioned confines and the comfortable, luxurious leather upholstery.

Comfortable seating was a luxury that had not seen in two years. They'd seen nothing of the quality of the inside of the plane in two years. They were prepared to dive onto the comfortable couches but something made them stopped. It would seem that they had not quite escaped their work just yet.

Alan Blunt sat on of the built in leather couches that ran along the side of the place. He was reading a copy of that day's newspaper, undoubtedly taken from London before they left. Mrs. Jones sat behind a small, but always elegant and classy, mahogany table, ruffling through a stack of papers and sucking on a peppermint.

Blunt looked up from his paper. He folded the paper back up and set it on the couch next to him as her eyed Hunter, Cub and Wolf.

Wolf stood in the center with Cub on his right and Hunter on his left, just slightly back. All three of them had their feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders squared and hands clasped behind their backs.

Blunt nodded at them. He was pleased, though he didn't show it to anyone through his expression. He tapped a finger against his chin. He'd done it this time. He'd created the unstoppable.

"At ease, gentlemen," Blunt commanded.

Hunter, Wolf and Cub relaxed their shoulders and dropped their hands to their sides.

Blunt stood up from the couch and faced Hunter, Wolf and Cub. Mrs. Jones stood up from her small table, setting her papers in a neat pile and stood next to Blunt. She offered the men before her a small smile. Neither Hunter, Cub nor Wolf returned it though, even though they all had seen it. They were still being watched closely by Blunt.

"If you would take a seat and fasten your seatbelts," Blunt suggested, motioning towards two rows of two seats each, "we may prepare for take off."

Wolf moved silently to the row of seats and took the window seat on the back row. Cub sat down in the seat next to Wolf and Hunter took the window seat in front of Wolf. Blunt and Mrs. Jones remained on the couch, fastening the seatbelts there around their waists.

The tarmac workers removed the stairs and closed the planes door slowly upon the word of the pilot. After the door was sealed shut and all the necessary checks had been passed the plane eased onto the runway. It picked up speed and soon enough they were flying high above the ground.

Wolf taped Cub on the shoulder. Cub looked over and Wolf pointed out of the window with a grin. Cub peered over Wolf and looked out of the window. He, too, grinned at the sight. They were leaving the island behind for what would hopefully be forever. Wolf alerted Hunter with a tap on his shoulder and soon Hunter was grinning right along with Wolf and Cub.

Once the plane had reached its cruising altitude and the pilot had announced that it was safe to move about the cabin, Blunt called Wolf, Hunter and Cub back over to him. He and Mrs. Jones led the three men into a separate room on the back of the plane. The room was remarkably simple for what Cub had seen of MI6 but, after all, it was just a plane. There was a dark wood conference table, tan leather chairs surrounding it, a phone, fax machine and a flat screen TV hanging on the wall.

Blunt sat at the head of the table and Mrs. Jones sat in the chair to his right. Wolf, Cub and Hunter filled in the remaining chairs.

Blunt cleared his throat before beginning, "First I would like to congratulate the three of you on two years of hard work successfully completed. You got off to a rocky start but I could not have asked for better. The three of you men have become exactly what I had envisioned for Triple Threat. You are strong and fearless and willing and able to do whatever your job demands of you. You are a close knit unit, willing to sacrifice for each other, Wolf, you proved that this morning." Wolf nodded. "This morning the three of you proved just exactly what you could do. You took what you were doing seriously but still were able to remain calm and together." Cub had to look down at his lap to hide his grin; he assumed that Blunt was talking about the rock incident. "You accepted Wolf as your leader today and did not question his orders. More importantly, the respect that you three have gained for one another is tremendous. The two years have done you good and no doubt you are ready for the first mission that you will be given."

Wolf, Hunter and Cub were stunned into silence. Never before had Alan Blunt praised them so. He may have been a cold hearted man and his praise may not have been enthusiastic but it was praise nevertheless… something none of them had received in two years. It felt good.

"Excuse me, sir," Wolf spoke up, keeping careful for his voice to be polite, "but what would our first mission be?" He asked, not able to contain the curiosity that they all felt.

"The time will come to worry about all of that later," Mrs. Jones cut in before Blunt was able to. "As a reward for your triumphs you are being given the day off to do as you please in London. We will not land until the morning and it is suggested that you sleep on the plane to make the most of your day," she advised with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am," Wolf spoke on all of their parts.

"You will be given all information on your mission and equipment in two days," Blunt said. "Treat everyday as though it is your last, make the most of your time in London. You are dismissed. Welcome to Triple Threat."

Wolf stood up first and saluted. Hunter and Cub followed Wolf's example and followed Wolf out of the small office. They returned to their seats in the front of the plane. Wolf checked behind him to make sure that no one was there before he addressed the others in a quiet, hushed voice. "'Treat everyday as though it is your last'?" He repeated Blunt's closing words. "Should that mean something?" He questioned wryly.

"That's what it sounded like," Hunter agreed.

"Maybe I don't want to know what this mission is," Cub said, pushing a button on his arm rest and pushing the seat backwards into a more comfortable position with his back.

"Agreed," that was from Wolf.

"Why do I get the feeling that they think this will be our last mission?" Hunter wondered aloud.

"Probably because that is exactly what they think," Wolf said.

"That doesn't make any sense though," Cub jumped in. "Why waste two years and countless millions of dollars training us to have us killed on the first mission?"

"This is Alan Blunt we're talking about here," Wolf was sure to keep his voice low so that only Hunter and Cub could hear his words. "He'll do anything to get what he wants."

"It's just weird, is all," Cub sighed softly.

"Agreed," Hunter said. "But let's not worry about it now. Let's get some sleep so that we can make the most of our day in town, we can worry about everything else later," he advised.

Cub and Wolf murmured their agreement. They all turned to face forwards once again and concentrated on making themselves as comfortable as possible in the limited space they had. Wolf and Hunter closed their windows so that the bright sun would not disturb them. None of the three men slept for more then a few hours at a time, they were accustomed to being woken up at ridiculous hours of the night… or morning.

That was another thing that they knew they would not miss.

The Sergeant.

**Triple Threat**

_Hours later_

When Cub woke up for the last time, Wolf and Hunter were talking quietly amongst themselves. Cub rubbed his eyes wearily but instantly felt more rested and wake then he had before. He sat up straighter. Wolf and Hunter heard his movements and looked at him.

"What time is it?" Cub asked quietly.

"No idea," Wolf shrugged. "There's probably a couple hours left before we get to London though."

Wolf pulled up the window shade and pointed out. Cub looked out and down. It was nearing dark; the sky was fading into a dark blue streaked with light purples and pinks. There was only a thin layering of clouds under the plane and the dark ocean below was visible through empty patches in the clouds.

Cub sat back in his seat without a word. "Blunt and Jones?" he asked next.

"Still in that room," Hunter responded.

"Wonder what they're doin' in there…"

"Gee, thanks for that mental image, Cub," Wolf growled as he shook his head.

Upon hearing Wolf's words, Cub was plagued with an image that he figured was similar to that of Wolf's he made a face of disgust.

"Not so pretty, huh?" That was from Hunter.

"Keep thoughts like that to yourself from now on, Cub," Wolf advised him. "If they give you pleasure then there's nothing we can do about it but they don't necessarily give the rest of us pleasure too."

"You're sick," Cub accused Wolf.

"Hey," Wolf said with a grin, "I'm not the one fantasizing about what Blunt and Jones are doing in the room over there… all alone… by themselves… big office table…"

"Who's fantasizing now?" Hunter laughed. "Seriously though, stop that thought before it goes any farther. I'm scared for life now as it is. Don't make it worse."

"Cub started it," Wolf accused childishly.

"Gentlemen," a cold voice alerted them to the fact that they were no longer alone. Wolf, Hunter and Cub started in surprise. Upon seeing that it was Blunt, they were all ashamed, they should not have been caught in surprise. After the shame of their action new thoughts invaded their minds. Blunt's face was as emotionless and gray as ever, it was impossible to tell, just by looking at him, if he was in on the conversation they had just been having. "Your presence is required." And with that, Blunt turned and walked back into the office, leaving the door ajar for them.

"If he heard us," Wolf said quietly to Cub as they walked down the aisle, "then you are so dead. I wouldn't put is past him now if the mission was meant to kill us."

"Hey, it wasn't just me that did the talking," Cub reminded Wolf.

Hunter came up behind them and gave them each a swift hit in the back of the head. "Just stop talking about it," he hissed at them.

Wolf and Cub were silent.

The three men filed back into the office and retook the seats that they had sat in hours earlier. Cub found himself unable to look at either Blunt or Mrs. Jones. He feared he started to laugh. He glanced over at Wolf and noticed with gratification that his lips twitched. Even Hunter was having trouble keeping a completely straight face.

"There are approximately four hours left until we reach London. It will be around seven a.m. when we arrive." Cub's brows furrowed… perhaps he had seen the sun rising rather then setting. "Even though today is essentially your free day," Blunt began again, "there are still precautions that need to be taken." Blunt turned to face Cub, "Now, it has been two years but we have no way of knowing whether or not Scorpia has given up on you yet or not. You look different enough to through them off but all three of you will need new names for today. Wolf and Hunter, yours were simple. Wolf, you are Josh Wolff."

Cub snickered. Josh Wolff was a US 'football' player. Or soccer player as it was called in the States.

"No relation to the football player," Blunt eyed Cub. Cub quieted down. "Hunter, yours is Daniel Hunter. Feel free to address each other by last names, it may be easier at first," he recommended. "Now, Cub, your code-name was hard to include in your name. Obviously, it is you that we are most concerned about being recognized, we cannot send you in as Alex Rider," Cub perked at the mention of his old name, the name that he hadn't heard, or thought about, in two years. "Your name for the day will be, Percy Rhodes."

Cub wrinkled his nose in uncontained distaste for the name. "Percy? Percy Rhodes?" He echoed. "What am I? A prissy, mama's boy?"

"Very predictable reaction," Blunt noted with obvious disdain. Cub shut his mouth before he said anything else to loose points with Blunt. "Would you prefer… Benjamin Rhodes better?"

He quickly accepted the name. "Fine."

"Very well," Blunt put his papers back into his folder. "Now that your names are settled we address the issue of dress." There was silence as Cub, Hunter and Wolf waited for Blunt to continue. "You can't very well run around London dressed as you are now." Cub waited in excitement as Mrs. Jones passed a pile of clothing across the table to Blunt. Real clothes! He picked the first set of clothes off of the top of the pile. "For you, Ben," he handed them to Cub. Cub accepted them gratefully along with the trainers that Mrs. Jones handed him.

"Here you go, Ben," Mrs. Jones said in a cheerful voice as she watched Cub's face light up. "There's a room right back there that you can change in," she smiled and pointed to the far side of the office. For the first time, Cub noticed that there was, indeed, a door there. He walked swiftly over to it, opened it and disappeared inside what he found was a little bathroom. "Just leave your clothes on the floor," Mrs. Jones called through the closed door.

Cub striped off of the uniform that had become apart of him the past two years and pulled on pair of faded blue jeans that had been provided for him. They fit perfectly, not too big but not too small. He was particularly gleeful upon finding that the shirt provided for him was a Chelsea football jersey. _My favorite football team_, he remembered with a smile. (a/n: That's right, right?) The jersey was short-sleeved and blue with white stripes on the sleeves. The Chelsea Football Club patch sown on the left side of his chest. The shirt read 'Samsung Mobile' across the front in big, white letters. The light material of the jersey was cool against his skin as he pulled it over his hair. He pulled on a pair of socks and laced up the black Adidas Samba, indoor soccer shoes that Mrs. Jones had given him before going back out into the office.

Wolf went into the bathroom to change next, taking his pile of clothes and shoes with him. Several minutes later he emerged, wearing a pair of dark jeans and somewhat close fitting black tee-shirt. He wore black Nike's with a white check on his feet.

Next, and last, was Hunter. He had been given a white with navy stripes rugby polo shirt to wear; there were two horizontal navy stripes and three off-white. The three buttons on the top were left undone. He also wore a pair of medium washed blue jeans and dark blue Adidas Sambas.

Cub grinned.

_A day free in London and real clothes. Could this day get any better? _

The answer to that was unknown, but Cub knew that it was so much easier for things to go wrong then it was for them to go right.

**Triple Threat**

_Free day in London _

Wolf, Hunter and Cub (or Josh, Daniel and Ben) strode confidently down the street, every step taking them farther and farther away from the Royal & General Bank of London. They walked in the formation that had become apart of the way they moved: Wolf in the middle and slightly in front with Cub on his right and Hunter on his left.

No one spared them more then a quick glance as they walked through bustling street. Men and women hurried about, jabbering on their cell phones, too busy to worry about the three men that walked together. Tourists were too busy sightseeing to pay them any attention. Today, for one day at the least, they were just normal guys in a normal day in the world.

Even the weather was normal, typical for London. It was overcast and hazy but muggy and warm, too. There was a chance of rain later in the afternoon. A warm, heavy breeze fluttered through Cub's hair. He smiled. He'd known that he had missed home but never had been able to fathom his wonderful it would feel to be back.

His arm bumped against his side as a man rushed passed him. His elbow hit something hard and cold steel pressed against his side. It was a harsh reminder that even on that day, a normal day in London, he was not normal. MI6 had given Cub, Wolf and Hunter each a small gun that had been strapped under their shirts around their ribs. They also each had a watch that would connect them with MI6 immediately or each other in the event one got separated from the others.

Everyone else was normal but Cub wasn't, and of course Hunter and Wolf too. But, they had gotten involved with this whole way of life at an acceptable age. No, really Cub was the one that stood out. He was only sixteen, the other two men in their twenties. He frowned, his good mood somewhat diminishing at the thought. _Stupid man_, he glowered in his mind.

They stopped in a pack of people to cross the street at an intersection. They walked into the park.

"So," Hunter said casually as they walked through the park, tall, leafy trees covering the gray sky, "what are we going to do?"

"Dunno," Cub said. "Nothing does sound tempting though."

"Agreed," that was from Wolf.

"But, then again, nothing is boring," Cub mussed.

"Well, maybe we should do something but not something that takes effort," Hunter reasoned.

Cub snorted. "God, we really _are_ bad at this. I mean, come _on_! We're in London and we can't think of one thing to do."

Wolf and Hunter laughed too. None of them were used to having free time. Everyday, no, every hour, of their past two years had been busy and planned, right down to the minute.

"Well then you think of something, Ben." It took Cub several seconds to figure out that Wolf was talking to him. "You're the one that used to live here," he reminded him.

"We could always go to…" Cub stopped his thought short. Wolf and Hunter looked each other questioningly. Cub stared down the path in front of him. There was a group of five teens, all laughing at something one of the boys had just said, walking right towards them.

Cub's stomach tightened in pain.

_My old friends. _

There was Tom; he'd grown his dark hair out. Ayden, his blonde hair cut in the 'skater' style and blowing in the breeze as he threw his back and laughed. Josh, his dark hair was still short but in need of a trim. And then there was Hailey, still skinny and pretty, her once long, blonde hair cropped short now, styled similar to how Jules in Bend It Like Beckham had worn her hair. They were all taller and clearly older, Tom, Ayden and Josh being more broad shouldered and muscled. And there was a girl that Cub did not recognize. She was tall and slim; she had tan skin and straight brown hair that was held in a high ponytail, she walked swiftly and with confidence. She was American.

"Do what?" Hunter prompted when Cub still did not answer.

Cub tried to reply but his mouth just moved up and down, like a fish out of water. His voice had escaped him. He tried to tear his eyes away from _them_ – he couldn't, wouldn't think 'friends' – but he couldn't. Tom, still laughing, looked forwards.

"Walk the other direction," Cub said quickly. Spinning on his heel he began to walk in the direction that they had just come.

Wolf and Hunter followed him in slight confusion. "What's going on?" Wolf demanded.

Cub didn't look back behind them. Tom had seen him; he knew that much for sure. He heard the laughing from the group stop.

"Yeah, those people back there? Yeah, well they were my friends two years ago and they'll recognize me if we go that way," Cub explained in a hurry.

Wolf stared at Cub for a long moment, analyzing the expression on his face. "Are you… _scared_, Cub?" Wolf hardly seemed to believe.

"No," Cub said quickly, refusing to admit that he was scared of seeing _them_ again and their reactions to the two older men. "They'll just recognize me, is all," he claimed. "I don't look _that_ different."

They had stopped walking by that time, Wolf and Hunter had cut off Cub's escape route.

"We're not running away from anything," Hunter said in a hushed voice. "We're not scared of anything, remember? We trained to be fearless. I will not run away from a couple of sixteen-year-olds," he said firmly. "We're going that way," Hunter pointed over Cub's shoulder.

"He's right, Cub," Wolf agreed. "Remember your training. And if they say anything to you, just ignore it," Wolf advised.

"Fine," Cub sighed in defeat. He could clearly see that he was fighting a loosing battle.

Wolf turned back the direction that had originally been walking in. Hunter joined him on his left and Cub moved to his right. They began to walk forwards again. Cub kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead of himself, refusing to look to the side where he would pass right by them. He felt their eyes all on him. They passed the group of five quickly and with outstanding ease.

Cub thought that they were free until a voice called out behind them.

"Alex?" It was Tom, Cub kept walking. "Alex Rider?" Tom called again, this time more insistently.

"Just ignore it, Cub," Wolf encouraged Cub. "You're not Alex Rider, Alex Rider is dead. You are, for today at least, Ben Rhodes. You know no one by the name Alex Rider."

Cub nodded briefly.

They heard not another word from Tom and the others as they walked through the park and finally out of it. They spent their morning doing mindless things. They went into random shops but did nothing. There was no more trouble and Cub was enjoying himself and his free time in London. He was determined to make the most of the rest of the day. There was no ore trouble.

It had started to drizzle so they stopped at a local pizza and sandwich place for lunch. The hostess showed them to a booth by the windows. Cub smirked at the glances she cast at Wolf and Hunter. Wolf sat on one side of the booth and Hunter and Cub sat on the other side. The hostess handed them their silver wear wrapped in paper napkins and their menus.

"And you thought Blunt and Jones were disgusting," Cub finally burst out laughing when the hostess had gone back to here station to help the next set of customers.

Wolf reached across the table and hit Cub on the head with his menu. "Don't you even start with that again," he warmed but there was laughter in his voice. Cub laughed louder. "I'm serious, _Benjamin_," he mocked, "You'll make me loose my appetite."

"Well then, _Joshua_—" Cub started but Wolf interrupted him.

"That's where you're wrong, _Benjamin_," Wolf laughed. "I'm only Josh, remember?"

Cub felt a spur of childishness humor flow through him and could not resist the urge to stick his tongue out at Wolf.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "Bite me."

"I'd much rather not," Cub returned with a smile.

"It is lost to me as why in the world you two were chosen for this," Hunter remarked casually, never taking his eyes off of his menu, which he was pretending to study with great care.

"Well, _Daniel_," Cub kept the trend going and emphasized Hunter's name, "it just wouldn't be the same without us, you see," he grinned.

"That's for sure," Hunter said with his eyes still on the menu.

"Aw come on, _Daniel_," Cub mock whined, "you know you love us—"

Cub stopped short and Hunter's menu hit him square in the face. He rubbed his nose and glared at Hunter who had returned to reading his menu with the utmost of sincerity but there was a flash of mischievousness in his ice blue eyes.

"What was that for? Is it National-Hit-Cub-In-The-Face-Or-Head-With-Menus-Day or something?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint, darling Cub," Hunter started to say in a sincere voice, "but I do not 'roll that way'," he snickered behind his menu.

"What the hell are you on about now, Hunt?" Cub quirked an eyebrow and the other one shot right up to join it momentarily. "Ew, no. You have a disturbing mind, _Daniel_."

"You know, Cub, that today I've had more bad mental images thanks to _you_ then ever before in my life, right?" Wolf said seriously.

"You know you enjoyed them, _Josh_-ua," Cub added the 'ua' and a wink for good measure.

"Alright then," Hunter put his menu down, "end of conversation. I am officially no longer hungry."

Cub was ready to fire out another one of his 'smart' replies when the feeling that several sets of eyes were on him and watching his every move became overpowering. He had a feeling that he could guess.

"Do I want to look behind me?" he asked Wolf.

"Not particularly," Wolf responded.

"Alright then." Cub picked up his menu and read through his options. He'd have a tough time deciding what to eat, everything sounded _so_ _good_ after the food they'd had for the past two years. He was convinced that he'd just have to order everything on the menu, good thing that MI6 was funding there 'day on the town', he could rack up quite the bill eating.

Cub drummed his fingers uncomfortably on the table; he never did like people staring at him. He'd gotten used to it but there had been no one to stare in the past two years and now it was starting again.

"I'm sorry," Wolf finally spoke up, "can we help you with something?" There was an edge to his voice.

Hunter turned his head to look at the booth behind them. Cub turned his head to look too. Indeed it was the group of five teens they'd seem earlier – not his friends, he had no friends besides Hunter and Wolf, these were just people. He didn't meet the eyes that stared at him. He glanced at Hailey and accidentally looked up. She gasped. He looked away.

"Can I help you with something?" Wolf asked again, his voice harder this time.

No one answered.

"We're just trying to enjoy our lunch," Hunter spoke up this time. "Is there a reason as to why you are staring at us?"

"I'm sorry," Tom was finally the one to speak. "It's just that you… friend," he glanced at Cub, "reminds us very much of one of _our_ old friends."

"Me?" Cub asked, feigning innocence. Tom nodded his head but remained silent. "I'm afraid I do not know you though…"

"His name is… was," Tom looked confused and shook his head, "is Alex Rider. We have—haven't seen him in two years but you look just like him."

Cub was silent for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry but I do not know of this Alex Rider."

"What's your name then?" Hailey's sweet voice joined the conversation with a challenge.

Cub looked at her briefly before replying in a nonchalant way, "My name is Ben Rhodes."

**a/n: **well there ya go. Hope it was okay. I kind of rushed through the end but oh well. I could have more with Alex's friends in the next chapter, if you want. Or I could do the last scene and the park in his friends POV or something. Depends what I feel like. The ext update will be sooner though. Review! -Steph


	7. Fair Play

**Authors Note—**

So this story is actually supposed to be on hiatus but I thought I give you guys an update since I haven't gotten, like, any reviews for The Dirty Game and Military Intelligence: Special Operations. So those two basically won't get updates until I get a serious number or reviews but whatever. More time for me to be lazy and to do nothing. And I'm also thinking of another story where Alex stayed with Scorpia but "played" MI6. Anyone interested? Well, I'm still a bit iffy on the specifics for this story but I'll try my best. Review!

-Steph

**Disclaimer: **If you think that I am Anthony Horowitz then you are sadly mistaken. First, I am a girl, my name is Steph and I live in the US and am nowhere near as great an author as Anthony Horowitz. I am making no profit from these insane ramblings so please don't sue—I owe my mom quite a bit for all the soccer jerseys I've ordered and I can't quite afford a lawsuit at the moment.

**Triple Threat**

**By: Steph **

Chapter 6—Fair Play 

"Blunt and Jones did this on purpose, didn't they?" Cub accused once they had left the restaurant. "They had to send us here; here of all the places in the world, because they knew that I would be recognized! They knew that _they_ would be here!" here Cub pointed at the restaurant. "They kne—"

"Alright, Cub," Wolf cut into Cub's rant. "Do you want to attract more attention to yourself by yelling and gesturing wildly on the side of the street?"

Cub looked up and glared at the man that was watching him from over a newspaper at the bus stop across the street. "Fine," he muttered before he stomped forwards, leaving Wolf and Hunter behind.

"Um, Ben?" Hunter called. Cub paid him no attention and kept walking. "I'm not sure if you want to go wandering off down a dark alley."

Cub stopped and realized that he was, indeed, standing in the mouth of an alley way. He spun around and stomped back over to Hunter and Wolf, who were having quite a time of trying to contain their amusement and Cub's childish antics.

"What are we doing now?" Cub finally asked.

"There's a fair in town," Hunter said.

"And you know that how?" Wolf inquired.

Hunter pointed to the wall. "It says it right there on the wall." Sure enough, there was a colorful flyer for a local fair taped to the side of the restaurant they had just eaten in.

"Brilliant idea, Hunter," Wolf said. He looked down at Cub with a devilish look. "You know, _Ben_, I think what you need to feel better is a nice ride in those little, spinney tea-cup things."

Cub rolled his eyes. "Yes and then maybe I can win you a nice little dolly," he suggested.

"Point taken, Cub… we can _all_ go on the spinney tea-cups."

"And maybe we could take a video and send it to Blunt and Jones," Hunter suggested wryly.

Cub and Wolf shared a glance. "Another brilliant idea, Hunt!" Wolf slapped his partner on the back. "You're just on a roll today, aren't you?" he teased in good humor.

Cub and Wolf laughed together at Hunter's expense.

Hunter shook his head in mock despair but his charade fell when he couldn't manage to keep a straight face.

The three men finally walked off down the street in the way the assumed the fair was.

If they had not been so absorbed in their day off and having fun then perhaps one of them would have noticed the man that had been reading the newspaper set down his paper and pick up his mobile phone as they walked away.

The man said only one thing on his mobile before he slipped it back into his pocket and moved off into the shadows of the backstreet.

"I've got them."

--+--

"So," Wolf said once they had been admitted into the fair, "what shall we do first?" Wolf turned his hand over and glanced at the stamp of a clown he'd had to get to come into the fair with a bit of disgust.

Wolf, Hunter and Cub looked around the bustling fairgrounds at the whirling rides and games and children running this way and that with cotton candy and stuffed animals, parents trailing and calling to their children ineffectively.

"How about something that doesn't attract anymore attention to us," Cub suggested as he looked around, hoping not to catch sight of his old friends again.

"So I guess that means a no to the spinney tea cups?" Wolf said.

"I didn't say that," Cub managed to crack a grin. "We may scare some of the parents though."

"How about we walk around instead of just standing here?" Hunter suggested.

"Good idea, mate,'" Wolf said and they walked away from the entrance and into the crowd.

"Come, Benny," Wolf said after a bit, "you're the youngest here so I suppose you would have been to a fair before with your mates. What did you do? Come on, give us some ideas."

"Uh," Cub said looking around. "We used to just walk around and hang out, I guess, we went on some of the rides, played some of the games, ate. You know, just what normal people do while at a fair."

"I have an idea," Hunter said. "How about we make up a game?"

"Would you like to play hide-and-go-seek, Hunt?" Wolf laughed. "Or maybe tag?"

"I meant," Hunter rolled his eyes, "something like what we did in training."

"If you're talking about long distance target practice then I don't think that that would be such a good idea beca—"

"I'm not talking about target practice, Cub," Hunter shook his head and laughed.

"Well then what _are_ you talking about?" Wolf said.

Hunter surveyed the fairgrounds quickly and thoughtfully and thought for several moments. "Actually," he said eventually, "never mind. I don't think my idea would have worked. I forgot for a moment just how many people were here."

"What were you planning on doing?" Cub chuckled. "Massacring the poor, innocent people that just wanted to spend a day at the fair?"

"Ha-ha, funny, Cub," Hunter said. "I was just thinking about how they sent us on those fake missions to find someone. I was going to say that one of us could go off and hide and the other two would have to find the other."

"That sounds suspiciously like hide-and-go-seek, Hunt," Cub laughed. He stopped suddenly and a look of horror spread over his face. "Oh my God, I just realized… they had us playing hide-and-go-seek for two years!"

"Yes," Wolf agreed, "extreme hide-and-go-seek."

"Isn't what we are essentially doing hide-and-go-seek? I mean we have to find the bad guys and stop them and all that," Hunter added thoughtfully. "Okay, I definitely take back my idea now; we don't need to relive training on our day off. We should be able to think of something else to do."

They walked past the colorful booths with various games.

"Maybe we should skip the shooting game," Cub suggested as the past by a booth where a little boy was holding a rather large and fake gun, trying to shoot down rubber ducks. "Or help the poor kid," Cub suggested as the little boys shot came nowhere near the duck, "he's doing a horrible job."

Wolf grabbed Cub's arm and pulled him along. "Or perhaps we should just keep on walking."

They continued walking and stopped only once they had reached the end of the fair.

"Anyone still up for that ride on the spinney teacups?" Wolf suggested because they had come to a stop right in front of the ride in question. Children lined up along the fence to wait for their turn and the children in the teacups screamed and laughed as they spun around and around.

Cub, Hunter and Wolf exchanged a glance.

--+--

The man on the cell phone stood behind a row of portable toilets. He tried to ignore the horrific smell that grew worse as time went on and concentrated on the task on hand.

The man slunk over to a cart that was selling balloons. The cart was empty, save for brightly colored balloons drifting above the cart in the light wind. The balloon cart had not been opened yet and it was the perfect cover for the man.

He peered through the balloons and watched in a mix of surprise, humor and disgust and the three men he was targeting handed a man their tickets and picked out a spinney teacup.

This was what had his company in such a twist? This was what needed eliminating? He could scarcely believe it! They were riding on the spinney teacups for goodness sakes!

The man sighed and watched.

The piece in his ear crackled to life. "Are you there, Agent Strasse?"

The man's hand flew briefly to the side of his face before he quickly let it drop back down to his side. "I am here," he responded in a robotic voice.

The voice coming through the speaker in his ear was so fuzzy and distorted that he could not be quite sure if it was a man or a woman that was speaking to him. But that would have been only if he hadn't known who was speaking to him and he had a fairly good idea.

"Do you have them located?"

"Yes."

"Is your cover secure?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Keep them under surveillance the rest of the day but do not jeopardize your cover."

The man—Agent Strasse—crept along the back of the line of portable toilets. The twitched his nose—he'd never known the things smelled _that_ bad before! "That shouldn't be too difficult," he muttered to himself after the crackling in his ear had abruptly shutoff. Lethal weapons? Was that seriously what anyone thought these people were? Why, they all looked like… like eleven-year-old boys!

Strasse's hand twitched to the gun that was strapped at his waist. The only thing that stopped him from pulling the gun and blowing the three men he watching away were his orders.

"Do not let them no you are there. The time is not yet. We will let you know when the time has come."

--+--

Wolf, Cub and Hunter walked casually through the fairgrounds. They stopped briefly at the foot carts but they had all eaten so much for lunch that they passed them by.

Trying to act like normal guys turned out to be harder then any of them had expected and a good deal of time was spent on trying to find a conversation that would not get them in trouble if was overheard.

Several time Cub had to shake off the feeling that they were being watched. He glanced over his shoulder more then once but saw nothing out of place.

"What's up, Cub? You've been looking over your shoulder for the past twenty minutes," Wolf finally asked as he caught Cub looking over his shoulder yet again.

Cub whipped his head around to the front again. "Someone's been watching us," he said softly but confidently.

Wolf and Hunter shared a glance. "There's no one here, Cub," Wolf said. When Cub was about to protest Wolf stressed his point, "_No one_. But someone will be here if you keep looking over your shoulder like that all the time."

Cub made sure that Wolf and Hunter were otherwise occupied before be risked one last look. He looked only long enough to see what he knew was there before he quickly turned his head back around again.

There had been children and adults of course. Those weren't the people who stood out to Cub. Those were the kind of people you expected to see at a fair. The person that stood out to Cub was a man. Just one man. He was alone. The man had been looking off in another direction so he couldn't be sure if this man was actually watching them or not.

Cub didn't say anything to Wolf or Hunter. They may have been able to work together as a powerful team and they may have been close friends but Wolf and hunter were still older then Cub. Sometimes they thought that they were right just because they were older.

Cub managed to stop Wolf and Hunter at a stand that was selling sunglasses.

"What are you one about now, Cub?" Wolf asked as Cub tried on a pair of sunglasses in front of a little mirror.

"I need some new sunglasses," Cub said briefly. He took off the sunglasses but looked in the mirror an extra minute. The same man was there, standing a little ways off. The man was tall, broad shouldered and slim waisted. He had dark hair cropped close to his head. The man looked over and for a brief second his foggy gray eyes met Cub's in the mirror.

"There's a man watching us," Cub said out of the corner of his mouth.

Wolf and Hunter both stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Cub. "Are you still seriously on about that, Cub?" Wolf asked incredulously. "I already told you that there is no one—"

"Do you remember the man that was outside the restaurant after we left?" Wolf and Hunter nodded slowly. "It's him. He's been following us. I just saw him through the mirror…" the word 'mirror' came out very slow as Cub pointed to the mirror and looked back into it. The man was gone.

Cub whipped around and stalked away from the booth to where the man had been standing. Wolf and Hunter jogged after him.

"He was right here," Cub said in a casual voice as he tried not to draw attention to himself.

Wolf and Hunter shared a look but looked around all the same.

"There's no one here, Cub," Hunter said.

"He's gone," Cub said firmly. "But he was here. I saw him looking at—"

"You're paranoid, Cub," Wolf cut him off. Cub glared at Wolf. "There's no one here. Just enjoy the rest of the day. You can worry about people following us in a few days probably."

Wolf and Hunter walked in the direction they had been going before Cub stopped at the sunglasses booth. Cub looked at the ground but followed after the two older men anyway.

He looked around once more before he followed Wolf and Hunter. There wasn't anyone there. Cub shrugged and shook it off. Wolf was right, he was just paranoid. He hadn't been out in public in two years. Of course it would feel like everyone was watching him.

He loped forwards and walked in between Wolf and Hunter. It was their day off and nothing else matter.

**a/n**: pure and utter crap but it's an update (even though it is short). And no matter how bad it is it set up a plot that I'm going to go with. Review! –Steph


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